


SnowBaz Prompts/Ficlets

by Caitybug



Series: Prompts [1]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Fluff, M/M, all happy endings though, bc they are ficlets and are supposed to be cute (:, be sure to read the summary before approaching, but I haven't put actual smut in, prompts, rated M for some of them which have some sexual themes, short bits, slight angst, some however are full angst oops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:42:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 20,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25723792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caitybug/pseuds/Caitybug
Summary: These are a collection of prompts I've been posting to tumble. Will link the masterpost in the A/N and update when I have time as there are quite a lot of them!Some are prompts about first kisses, saying I love you, etc. Mostly just a cute fluffy time (:
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: Prompts [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2135187
Comments: 70
Kudos: 270





	1. Portaloo Fic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This prompt came from [TheFlyingPeach](https://theflyingpeach.tumblr.com/) who said:  
>  _ok im requesting one of them being locked in a porta potty and it rolls down a hill. if u can make me cry with that prompt then i surrender._
> 
> So here have a little post Wayward Son angst I love you fic (All while in a porta potty haha.)

Baz and I are watching Penny frantically look around for her purple stone. 

She's pulling back her hair into a wild bun, bending down to search. 

Shepard ran to go check the car, swearing up and down that it must have fallen in there.

Baz tried to cast a finding spell, but he’s all drained up. 

“I need to get it fitted to a new ring,” Penny tells herself, kneeling and digging through the grass. “Then this won’t happen.”

Baz huffs. He doesn’t like to feel useless. 

We are standing a few feet apart, awkwardly orbiting each other without ever getting too close. 

On the beach, he told me: “ _Why can’t you see that I wouldn’t be happy anywhere without you?”_

I almost believed him.

_Almost_.

“I’m going to go check the table again,” I state, walking away.

Being too close is painful. 

Baz once said: _“I’d wake up every morning and think, ‘This will end in flames.’”_

I feel like I could catch on fire.

I love him so much it burns.

It burns, and I’m on fire. I can’t let him too close. He’s flammable. 

_I’ll only hurt him more if he stays_. 

I look under the table to no avail, then stand up and see a portaloo.

_Didn’t Penny go to the bathroom earlier?_

I shrug to myself; it can’t hurt to check.

When I get in I have to hold my breath, it smells _awful_. 

Luckily, I see it sitting on the hand sanitizer.

I smile and grab it, excited to leave the smell when Baz is thrust in. 

“Woah, what-” I start, catching Baz.

_His arms feel strong._

_“_ I’m locking you both in until you get over this weird thing between you!” Penny shouts, slamming the door behind Baz. “I’m so done with the wistful sighs and woeful glances. Grow up!”

“Wait!” I shout, banging on the door, trying to open it. _She must have jammed it_. “I found your stone!”

“Hah! You can’t fool me!” She shouts back. “Enjoy the smell, I’ll be back in ten.”

I hear the grass crunch as she walks away, leaving Baz and I standing awkwardly close, still surrounded by the _smell._

Baz sighs.

“She took my wand, just in case.” He mutters.

I hit my head against the wall.

We stand there awkwardly for far too long, and I can’t tell what makes me finally speak up.

Whether it’s being close to Baz, the chemicals, or the fact that I’ve not gotten proper sleep, I’m not sure.

“Baz,” I whisper, head still against the wall, “I’m not worth it.”

He scoffs.

_Of course he scoffs_.

“Simon, do turn around,” he says. “If I’m going to have this talk with you in a fucking _portaloo_ then I’d like to do so to your face.”

I turn around and see him, cramped and a little hunched over, his arms crossed over his chest.

I can’t look into his eyes.

I’ll burn.

_He’ll burn_.

We are too close, it’d be deadly. 

“Simon,” he says. I’m weak and I look up. 

His grey eyes are soft. It’s dark, but a little light shines through the vent, creating lines on his face.

_He’s still so beautiful, even in this context_.

“Baz,” my eyes start to water. _Is it because of the smell or the thought of losing Baz? The thought of_ hurting _him._ “I can’t do this, you shouldn’t have to-” I swallow, trying to find the words.

_How do you break up with someone you love?_

_“_ You have so much going for you, and I- I'm stuck.” 

“Simon you absolute idiot,” he sneers.

Somehow the arguing eases some of the emotion. Arguing is what we know. It’s always a fight with us.

“I know!” I say. It comes out much louder than I mean for it to. “I know you said you _choose_ me or whatever. You don’t have to stick with it. You can break it off-”

“I love you, you absolute moron,” Baz shouts.

Silence.

I hear crickets chirping outside. 

“I love you,” he repeats, quieter this time. “You’re an idiot, you’d eat butter by the spoonful if Bunce or I didn’t stop you, you drink _unicorn frappuccinos_. Yet I find myself in love with you.”

I’m staring at him, but he’s looking down at his feet as he whispers his confessions.

_He loves me_.

We’ve not said it before.

I always assumed…

“You love me?” I ask, voice shaking.

He nods, taking a deep breath in and holding it for a moment.

_I always assumed it was just me. That I would love him, and that he’d move on. Move away from the mess of me._

He lets his exhale out and reaches for the handle again, shaking it.

“Fuck,” he breathes out.

“Baz,” I whisper, reaching out for him. 

He lets me touch his shoulder, but he doesn’t look up.

I shake him a little, and he opens one eye to glare at me.

“Baz, I-” A breath. “I love you too.”

His eyes go wide, and he lifts his head up.

“I love you so much,” I tell him.

_We’ve never said it_.

I reach up and put a hand on his neck.

He leans down.

My heart starts to race.

_It’s easier to hide when I do the kissing_.

I let him do it this time.

_He loves me_.

 _He’s not going to hurt me_.

His lips touch mine and I can breathe again. He pulls me close, and I let him lead the way. 

_Maybe it’s not so bad to let him have control._

But then, I feel something move, and we break apart. Our faces must have the same look of shock because the portaloo falls over.

I’m yelling, holding on to Baz. 

The smell is _everywhere_. 

It rolls and it gets even worse.

Baz keeps cursing.

I hear Penny shouting.

We stop.

I feel something smushy under my leg.

_My shoes are soaked._

I try not to think too much about it.

“Merlin’s beard!” Penny shouts, opening the door and standing above us. “What happened?”

Baz starts climbing out first, looking worse for wear.

I stand up and toss Penny her stone, and she looks immediately regretful.

“Told you,” I say, straightening up.

She holds her gem out and casts **_clean as a whistle_.**

It gets rid of the worst of it. I still _feel_ it though.

I’m not sure if I’ll ever be able to look at a portaloo again.

I look up and see Baz glaring at Penny, only for him to look down at me and hold a hand out.

I reach out and intertwine our hands.

It’s not fixed, I don’t think. But it’s better. 

“I love you,” I whisper as Penny walks away.

He leans down and kisses my forehead.

“I love you too, Snow,” he whispers back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed my attempt to make a porta potty emotional lol. 
> 
> Check me out on [Tumblr](http://tumblr.com/blog/caitybuglove23)
> 
> See the entire masterpost: [here](https://caitybuglove23.tumblr.com/post/620402485524381696/below-are-prompts-ive-filled-for-various-things)


	2. Kisses exchanged while one person sits on the other’s lap.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This comes from [Pipsqueakparker](http://tumblr.com/blog/pipsqueakparker) who asked:
> 
> (did i check to see if you'd already done any of these first? no i did not, i needed to throw these at you immediately before i got distracted reading the rest so i apologize if there have been repeats) B U T also 27 or 50 🥺
> 
> So find a short snippet of fluff from day to day life. Feat some Penny/Shepard moments too (:

I’m sitting in the living room at Simon and Bunce’s apartment, waiting for Simon to show up.

Penny and Shepard are on one couch, and I’ve taken the chair.

Simon is grabbing the food (who knows what he’s getting us).

“Shepard stop!” Penny squeals. Shepard has his hands pinching her waist.

_Tickling_.

I roll my eyes.

_They’re disgusting I swear_.

“Oh Baz, don’t even,” she chastises, moving to sit out of Shepard’s reach, attempting to avoid potential tickles. “You and Simon are _way_ worse.”

“We are way worse at what, Pen?” Simon says, walking through the door.

“PDA,” Shepard chimes in, jumping up to help Simon with pizza.

“I’m not sure, Penny, I did catch you and Shepard making out in the lighting section of Lowe’s the other week,” Simon points out. 

“We were not!” 

I laugh, they definitely _were_ doing that. 

Simon brings me a plate, smiling down at me as he moves.

His smile still manages to make my chest warm.

It's the way that he does it for me.

When he smiles for a plate of scones, or a joke from Shepard, it feels different.

But when he stands above me and looks at me, a smile on his face, it feels special.

It's all mine.

“Hey there,” he whispers in greeting. I smile in return, shifting to get comfortable. 

Simon turns around and pauses.

“Where am I to sit?” He asks, gesturing to the full couch, and me on the chair.

“The floor?” I offer.

He scoffs.

“I’m the one who got the food!”

“And I’m the one who paid,” I smirk at him. 

He gives me a look, a playful smile, and I know I’m screwed.

He grabs my plate and moves to sit in my lap, his legs hanging off one side and his head next to mine. 

“I found a solution,” he says, smiling up at me. 

I’d be mad at him, but he’s warm and smiling, holding a piece of pizza up for me to eat.

“See, you guys are disgusting, not us.” Penny protests.

“Oh, Bunce, it could be a lot worse,” I say, swallowing my bite.

“It could?” Simon asks.

I lean up and give him a soft kiss.

Penny groans and walks to the kitchen to get something and avoid us, dragging Shepard along with her.

“I love you,” Simon whispers when we part.

I lean back up for another kiss.

“I love you too, Simon,” I respond. 

We readjust for comfort and continue to feed each other slices of pizza while Bunce tells us about her classes. 

Every once in awhile Simon whispers in my ear, asking if I’m going to finish my slice of pizza, telling me he loves me wants to go to bed.

It's small and domestic, but absolutely perfect. 

I start to wonder if it could be like this all the time; if _we_ could be like this all the time.

_Simon’s lease_ **is** _up soon_...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Feel free to check me out on [Tumblr](http://tumblr.com/blog/caitybuglove23)
> 
> The full fic masterpost can be found [here](https://caitybuglove23.tumblr.com/post/620402485524381696/below-are-prompts-ive-filled-for-various-things)


	3. Kisses In The Rain (of Confetti)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New Year's Eve kiss in a rain of confetti (:

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From a prompt asked by [Ninemagicks](http://tumblr.com/blog/ninemagicks) where she said:  
> Please could we have Snowbaz for 14? 🌧☔💖 (which is kisses in the rain.) She so graciously allowed me the freedom to give a twist.
> 
> I hope you like it!!

There’s soft noise coming through the doors as I stand on the balcony. 

Everyone inside is having a great time. 

It’s a good party.

(Truly, it is.)

Sometimes I just need to take a breath and separate myself from everything.

It’s also nice to be able to go outside without the fear of someone shrieking when they see me. 

(That happened once. Baz and I forgot about spelling my wings away the first night we moved in and the poor lady to our left saw us over her morning cup of tea.)

_ Thank Merlin costumes exist _ . 

(She still gives me weird glances in the hall though.)

“Doing alright?”

It’s Baz. He always knows I need some time at big gatherings.

(Frankly, he does too.)

We love our friends, but we get drained after a while. It’s nice to be able to step away and get fresh air. 

Shepard is here anyway. He could always carry a party by himself. 

Baz can tend to put up with more than me, people wise. (A side effect of his upbringing, I guess.)

“Yeah.” I look over the ledge at a group of people walking down the road. They’re slightly intoxicated, shouting about how this next year of their life is going to be the best thing ever. “‘M’alright.”

Baz’s arm comes behind my back and I feel his lips touch the top of my head.

“I’ll kick them out if you want me too,” he whispers. 

I snort. 

“Penny would kill you.” I lean into him.

He laughs softly.

Much softer than whoever is laughing back in the living room. 

(Penny, I think.)

“I’d bounce back, somehow. Short of her setting me on fire, I’d wager I could come back from the dead, so to speak.” 

I look up. 

He’s concentrating at a point on my forehead. Looking at me, but not  _ at _ me. 

I start to wonder why, but he lifts a finger and brushes a curl from my face. 

“No amount of product you use will ever stop your hair being the way it is,” he says, finally looking down into my eyes. 

I smile finally. The first time since walking out here to escape the noise. 

Shepard shouts something about how he’s met Mothman.

Penny shouts back that Mothman isn’t real.

“I love you,” I tell him, putting my arms around his neck. “Any hopes for what this next year will bring?”

A group of people step out on the balcony above us, buzzing about how it’s almost time.

_ Must almost be midnight _ .

“Well let’s see,” he ponders. He purses his lips and looks up for a moment, pretending to be deep in thought. “I wouldn’t mind if my boyfriend learned to put his trousers away after finishing the laundry.”

He’s smirking, but it’s in jest.

(Doesn’t mean I don’t pinch his waist in response though.)

“I wouldn’t change much either,” I respond, leaning into his chest. “Maybe could do without the salt and vinegar crisp crumbs left on the table.”

He hums in response.

Not denying or accepting. 

_ “Okay, does everyone have one?”  _ Someone asks above us. 

I hear people from inside start to count down. 

The people above start too (a bit off time, but close enough.)

“ _ 10…” _

“Should we go in?” Baz asks.

I scrunch my nose.

“ _ 9…” _

I look inside.

Penny and Shepard are shouting, both standing on the couch.

(I make sure Baz stays facing me. He’d be dreadful if he saw.)

“ _ 8…” _

“I think they’ll make do without us,” I say, facing him again. 

He pulls me closer, our foreheads touching.

“7…”

We whisper the countdown now.

“6…”

It feels like it’s just us.

Me and Baz, against the world.

(Though we’re not fighting anything anymore.)

“5…”

Not  _ really _ .

Unless you count the cable provider.

Baz got into it with them last Monday.

“4…”

He kisses my forehead.

“3…”

I kiss his chin.

“2…”

“I love you, Simon,” he whispers. His lips move against my own.

“I love you too, Baz.”

“1…”

We stay this in unison. The last number, the final moment of the previous year, and we press harder into each other.

I hear pops go off, maybe some fireworks in the distance. 

People on the street are shouting, praising the end of  _ yet another horrible year _ .

Baz leans back for a moment. I open my eyes.

His hair has strips of something on it. 

He raises an eyebrow and pulls a similar one off mine. 

They’re floating all around us.

_ Confetti _ . 

I hear more pops from above.

“The neighbors seem to be having fun,” Baz jokes.

I hum, leaning up to keep kissing him while the confetti rains around us. 

Not every day of the year was great. Most were fairly painful if we are being honest.

But this, here.

Kissing Baz.

Feeling confetti hit our cheeks as we laugh.

Hearing Penny shout, asking where we are.

Only for Agatha to respond with: “ _ Where do you think, Penelope? Making out on the balcony.” _

She groans, but I don’t much care if I’m being honest.

It’s a new year, and I’ve started it by kissing Baz.

I could do this a million times more. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for checking this out!!
> 
> I have more ficlets on this masterpost. But I will also be uploading them all to this fic as separate chapters if you'd rather just subscribe and follow.
> 
> Check me out on [Tumblr](http://tumblr.com/blog/caitybuglove23)


	4. Accidental Brush of Lips-- a Kiss Prompt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 4\. An accidental brush of lips followed by a pause and going back for another, on purpose  
> (Given by an anon on tumblr.)

Baz and I are trying to work on our project for our math class.

We have to build a diorama of a city, scaling measurements down _perfectly_ and including specific types of shapes.

It’s a lot of geometry, which is okay with me.

But working with Baz, _that’s_ the hard part.

Not to say I don’t like him.

That’s actually the problem here. I like him all _too_ much.

Penny, in all her wisdom and glory, tells me to get a grip and ask him out.

_I can't just **do** that._

He’s hot-gluing something to our sheet of posterboard, his hair slightly in his face, fingers carefully avoiding the heat of the gun.

I lose focus for a moment.

_I bet his hair would feel soft in my fingers_.

There's one strand in particular, hanging right in front of his left eye, that I want to push behind his ear.

I wonder if it would be like the movies.

_I walk up slowly to him, he looks up as soon as he feels my presence._

_I lift a hand and push it behind his ear._

_Then I'd tilt his chin up and-_

A cough startles me out of my thoughts.

He looks up, clearing his throat once more.

_Now is not the time_.

“Do you have more sticks? I’m running low.” He asks. 

“Yeah,” I respond, reaching for the bag.

_I was banned from the hot glue gun after my third burn._

“Are you going to the golf house party tonight?” He asks, casually.

“I hadn’t heard of it until this moment, so I’d assume not.”

He nods.

I step closer to our creation. 

It's nothing special, but I think it'll get us an A.

“Oh, I should add some more grass to this section,” I say, reaching for the bag.

Baz moves his head and our heads collide.

_Not just our heads._

_Our lips_.

Even just the quick accidental touch sent a spark through me.

He and I are staring at each other, my arm still reached out in front of him, the glue gun slowly pushing more hot glue out.

I should apologize, I should say something, _anything._

But, like a magnet, I lean up.

His eyes close and he puts down the glue gun, putting a hand on the back of my neck.

There is nothing accidental about the way our lips touch this time. It’s deliberate, purposeful, _soft_.

I move a hand around his waist and pull him closer, running the other up his arm until I hold his face.

_His cheeks are so soft_.

I test out what I always wondered, and take a grip of his hair.

_His hair feels like silk._

(What I imagine silk feels like, at least. I'm not sure if I've ever touched it.)

He lets out a moan, and all of a sudden we aren’t kissing softly anymore. 

The model building Baz is holding drops to the floor and he pulls me even closer.

_We should probably talk._

There’s been no reason to think this would happen before.

_Or did I miss it? Did I miss the bit where Baz has been flirting with me the whole time?_

We part.

_Should I be breathing this heavily?_

(God I hope he doesn't think I'm weird.)

He is too. 

(A relief, truly. But also insanely hot.)

“Hey,” I whisper. 

He smiles, releasing all the butterflies in my stomach.

“Hello,” he replies back, reaching down to quickly kiss me again.

I swear I’m _melting._

I put my hand down on the table and immediately yelp.

“Oh, FUCK,” I shout, lifting my hand back up.

_Another burn_.

“Snow, we are going to have to keep you and the glue gun in separate rooms moving forward,” Baz says, a smile on his lips as he moves it out of the way.

“So, are _you_ going to the golf house party tonight?” I ask, returning to the discussion before the… before the _kiss_.

“I was rather hoping I could go on a date.”

I deflate.

“Oh.”

“On a date with you, you twit,” Baz says, turning back to me.

My chest warms and the smile on my face is probably a _little_ _too big_. 

“That would be great, yes,” I say.

“Perfect. Try not to burn yourself anymore. I’m not sure how a date at the Hospital would go. Treating a burn victim is not how I’d like to spend my first date with you.” He winks and turns back around to continue gluing.

I pinch myself, making sure this is real.

My lips still feel warm, as if ours are still brushing against each other.

_He melts me like the gun does the glue_.

I wonder if he’d burn by touching me too. 

“Didn’t you mean to work on the grass, Snow?” Baz asks, back still turned to me.

“Oh, right, yeah,” I stumble, going to grab the bag again.

I’m still smiling.

_I’m going on a date with Baz_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading!
> 
> Check me out on [Tumblr](http://tumblr.com/blog/caitybuglove23)
> 
> See the entire masterpost on tumblr [here](https://caitybuglove23.tumblr.com/post/620402485524381696/below-are-prompts-ive-filled-for-various-things)


	5. A Bowling Alley Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From a prompt given by [Pip](http://tumblr.com/blog/pipsqueakparker) where they said:  
> 33\. An unexpected kiss that shocks the one receiving it. BUT the o p p o s i t e (an unexpected n e e d to kiss the other that shocks the one giving it)

I’m standing here, in the stupid bowling shoes the teenager at the front handed me, trying to figure out how to _not_ land my ball in the gutter.

Penny thought it’d be a good idea. Said that we needed to get _out_.

Turns out I’m _terrible_ at bowling.

It’s made even worse by the fact Baz Pitch is here, in the next lane over.

_And he keeps getting strikes_. 

“Penny, we should go,” I groan. She’s up now, swinging the ball back before thrusting it forward and onto the lane.

I watch the way her smaller teal ball rolls and knocks down the pins.

The animation on the screen gives her applause, and I feel instantly bitter.

Baz in the next lane over is helping a little girl (sister? I didn’t know he had siblings) push a ball down a dinosaur ball slide.

She has bumpers put up.

_I wonder if I could get bumpers_.

“Simon, it’s your turn.” She says, hitting my back.

I look up at the screen; _36 points._

Sighing, I take my lime green ball and walk up to the lane.

“Need help?” Baz asks, walking up to stand next to me.

“Not from you, no,” I grumble.

Baz is a thorn in my side. Everything comes so _easily_ to him. It’s absolutely frustrating. 

“Okay, if you say so.” He says.

I throw the ball and it manages to go _backward_. 

“Fine!” I shout. “I’ll take your help.”

He walks back up and grabs a ball from the dispenser. Purple this time.

“That’s not my ball,” I state.

“It’ll do. You may be using too heavy of one.” He hands it to me and I slip my fingers in.

I guess it _does_ feel easier to hold.

“Okay, so you’re going to want to take a few steps back and walk _into_ the toss.” He says.

I walk backward and then start walking back up, tossing it as I go.

I flinch as it flies into the next lane.

“Sorry!” I tell the old couple in the lane to our right. They smile and nod in acknowledgment.

“Okay, maybe let’s just go over _how_ to throw a bowling ball.” Baz chuckles.

I don’t think I’ve ever heard him laugh before. It sounds nice.

(Musical, in a way.)

He grabs the ball in my hand and starts to help me move it in an upward motion.

I frown, realizing how close he is getting.

_His hands are really soft_.

He’s speaking, but I’m only watching his lips.

_I wonder if his lips are soft too_.

I blink. 

“Do you understand now?” He asks.

When he looks down, I’m pretty sure I nod. _I think I did anyway_.

But there is a need (want?) that hasn’t sat there before.

I start to lean in, not thinking about it.

_I want_.

_I want._

“Simon?” He asks in a whisper.

I jump back.

“Uh, sorry, I-” I’m backing up and putting the ball back in the dispenser. “I need to go to the bathroom. Penny will take my turn.”

She’s looking down at her phone when I say this.

“Simon I’m not going to do your turn for you.”

“Then you’ll be waiting for a few,” I say.

I trip over my feet, but I make it to the bathroom nonetheless.

_What on earth am I doing?_

_“_ Simon?” 

_Fuck_.

“Sorry, Baz,” I say, turning the sink on. “Just washing my hands.”

I see him frown as I look up at the mirror. He’s deciding something.

It takes a moment, but then he opens his mouth. 

“I know we haven’t been close before, but I like you.”

I stop and turn off the sink.

“What?” I ask, turning to face him.

“It’s foolish,” he says, giving a dry laugh, “but I’ve liked you ever since freshman year.”

I’m staring at him, and that feeling crawls back up again.

_I want_.

_I want._

_“_ I’m sorry, this was a bad time and place-” he says, nervously backing away.

I take two steps forward and he stops.

_I want._

_“_ You _like_ me?” I whisper.

He nods.

I put my hands on his shoulders.

_Strong_.

I look at his eyes, which are searching my own for an answer.

_I want._

_“_ Simon,” he says, _breathes_ , and I lean up. 

_I want to kiss him._

It was a surprise, standing in the lane to feel this _want_. The _need_ to kiss him.

But now, with his hands on my waist, I’m realizing I should have known all along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading!
> 
> Check me out on [Tumblr](http://tumblr.com/blog/caitybuglove23)
> 
> See the fic masterpost [here](https://caitybuglove23.tumblr.com/post/620402485524381696/below-are-prompts-ive-filled-for-various-things)


	6. Baz Accidentally Uses Nair on his Head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt given by [TheFlyingPeach](http://tumblr.com/blog/theflyingpeach) where they asked:   
> _Baz accidentally uses nair on his head_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [KrisRix](http://tumblr.com/blog/krisrix) drew art to go with this fic! Check it out [here](https://krisrix.tumblr.com/post/620680362156244992/baz-accidentally-uses-nair-on-his-head) for some side shave baz (:
> 
> (Also, because I'm addicted to pink haired baz and blue haired Simon, and Kris is a wonderful human being, I colored it and posted it [here](https://caitybuglove23.tumblr.com/post/621312057176883200/so-krisrix-is-an-absolute-amazing-humangenius#notes)
> 
> Anyway, enjoy this snapshot haha.

We’ve been snowed in all weekend at Snow’s flat. 

It’s been _dreadful_.

(If I have to watch another Die Hard movie, I might snap.)

Not being locked up with _him_ , mind you.

(That part is perfect.)

But I wasn’t prepared for it. 

I don’t even have any extra pants to change into. 

(It means I’m wearing Snow’s, which, well, that’s not so bad). 

But I need to shower, and Simon has just run out of shampoo.

“Sorry, Baz,” he told me, “I kept meaning too. I was going to pick some up over the weekend.”

I scoffed and walked to the shower, trying not to think about how long _he_ would allow himself to go without a proper wash. 

At least some hot water and soap will help. I’ll get by. 

(Until I can return home.)

I get in the shower and let the warm water run over my skin.

It’s relaxing, at least. Everything right now is so _cold_. 

(I swear Snow's heat is broken.)

I look through the contents of the shower and see a little bottle that must belong to Penny. 

_It’s got to be better than whatever shower gel Simon has_.

I put a dollop in my hand, and immediately regret it.

_It smells awful_.

I turn the shower warmer, accidentally putting some of it in my hair when I bump my elbow. 

I start by washing it off my hands.

_It feels odd_.

And smells _awful_. 

(What does Bunce put on her body?)

I look back at the bottle and see the label.

_Nair_.

One line lower.

_Hair remover_.

I look at my hand, and it looks alright. But then I feel a burning sensation on the left side of my head.

_Oh fuck_.

I quickly duck my head under the water to get it out.

_It still smells awful_.

A few strands of hair come out.

That’s no big deal. A few strands are nothing, I can get through that.

_Then a chunk comes out_.

“FUCK!” 

It doesn’t _all_ come out. Only the side of my head, and only a few chunks.

_But that’s still too much_.

How could I cover this up? There’s no way to make this look normal.

Combover at 22? Is that a thing? Could I manage that?

I turn the shower off and grab a towel.

“Baz?” I hear from the other side of the door. “Is everything alright in there?”

I wrap the towel around my waist and open the door.

“Does this,” I point to the side of my head, “look alright to you?”

He looks confused for a moment before reaching out and touching the side of my hair, finding where the pieces are missing.

His eyes go wide.

“What the hell-”

“Hair remover! Your cursed roommate left _hair remover_ in the shower.”

_I’m going to kill Penelope Bunce_.

Simon is chuckling, and I want to hit him.

“Simon, do tell me how this is so funny?”

I turn to the mirror and wipe some of the condensation off.

_Imagine if it had gotten all over_.

(No, I can't. I can't let my mind go there.)

“It’s just,” he sighs, moving to stand next to me, “it’s interesting to watch something like this happen to you instead of to me.”

I shove him, only making him laugh more.

_How am I going to cover this up_?

“Could just shave it?” Simon suggests.

I freeze and glare at his reflection in the mirror.

“I could also throw out all the butter in this house, Snow,” I growl.

“Not _all_ of it,” he continues, slowly approaching me. It’s driving me _mad_. He’s treating me like I’m a rabid dog.

_Maybe I am right now._

_“_ Plenty of people only shave _part_ of their head. It’s not all over. It’d help it grow in even, and would look more like a choice than a mistake,” he shrugs. “You don’t have to.”

I sigh, staring at myself in the mirror again.

_A combover wouldn’t be possible_.

The fumes must be getting to me because in the next breath I tell him, “Fine.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, Snow.”

“I still have what I used before every summer while we were at Watford.” He bends down to grab a black box under the sink.

In it, he pulls out an electric razor. 

“You’ll want to sit down,” he says, plugging it in and putting an attachment on.

_It looks shorter than I’d ever want it to be_.

I touch the side of my head and feel the patches. 

Simon is standing in front of me, the razor sitting on the counter. 

“Don’t you need that?” I ask, pointing at the device.

“We need to find out where your part is going to be,” he says, reaching forward to push some of my hair off to the side.

It takes him a few moments before he is satisfied.

I feel where it is, far less is planned to be shaved than I could have hoped.

_A bit of a relief, really_.

He grabs the clippers and clicks a button, the buzz ringing deafeningly in my ears.

He looks at me with a clear question on his face. 

_Are you ready?_

I gulp and nod, hoping that my trust in Simon Snow doesn’t fail me now.

I feel chunks of hair falling off my shoulder, still sticking to some parts that are damp. 

It’s over almost as quickly as it started, and the buzzing ends.

“You can open your eyes, you know,” he says, dusting some hair off my shoulder.

I open one eye.

“How bad is it?” I ask.

I’m afraid to look in the mirror.

He puts a hand on the side of my face, rubbing a thumb over the shaven part slowly.

It feels odd. Not _bad_ , just _odd_.

“I kind of like it,” he says, leaning down to give me a kiss. 

His thumb continues to trace circles where he shaved, and I raise a hand to hold his.

It feels so _weird_.

I take a deep sigh and part from Simon to stand and look in the mirror.

He’s looking at me, nerves clear all over his face. 

It’s not _bad_.

I could still part my hair in the middle and it wouldn’t look like anything happened.

I touch it again, feeling the short hairs against my fingers.

Simon clears his throat behind me.

“Is it alright?” He asks cautiously.

I sigh.

“It’ll do,” I respond, turning to face him.

His face drops.

(Be nicer, Basil. He didn't put Nair in your hair.)

“It’s great, love,” I whisper, pulling him close. “You’re surprisingly good at this.”

It’s not a lie. It’s even tapered down close to my ear. 

“I shaved my head every summer,” he shrugs, “had to get good at it I guess.”

I lean up and kiss him.

_I’m still killing Bunce, however_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Check out my [Tumblr](http://tumblr.com/blog/caitybuglove23) (:


	7. A Hop Skip and a Jump

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From a prompt given by [TheFlyingPeach](http://tumblr.com/blog/theflyingpeach) where they asked:  
>  _“turning around to check on you constantly when they are walking in the front” but instead they’re checking to see how close the other person is so they can suddenly stop and make them run into their back/trip them up_
> 
> Here are some fun antics (:

“What do you think is going through his head?” Bunce asks as we walk down the deserted road.

I turn around, seeing Simon and Shepard talking.

“Wait, you mean the Loch Ness Monster is  _ real _ ?” Simon exclaims.

“Of course!” Shepard shouts back. “You’re telling me that you can literally  _ sprout wings _ but you don’t think a lake monster exists?”

Simon shrugs.

I turn back to Bunce.

“Which one?”

She rolls her eyes and scoffs.

“Idiots, the two of them,” she mutters. 

I smirk and turn back around.

Simon isn’t looking down at his feet. Isn’t even looking ahead to make sure he doesn’t run into a pole. His entire focus is on Shepard, listening to him discuss creatures he’s interacted with.

It gives me an  _ idea _ .

I pause in place, allowing Bunce to pass me. She turns around, confused as to why I’d stop.

“Basil what-” She starts, but it’s too late.

Simon crashes into my back. 

“Oh fuck, I’m so sorry, Baz,” he says.

“You should be,” I say, feigning offense. “Watch where you are going, you oaf.” 

He apologizes again and I start walking, reaching Bunce. 

“What was that about?” She whispers.

I wink.

“All in good fun,” I whisper. 

I turn around again, checking to see where Simon’s eyes are. 

They’re ahead for the moment, catching with my own and smiling. 

“Wait, Simon, have I ever told you about the Mothman?” Shepard says.

Simon blinks at me and then turns to Shepard.

“The who now?”

I wait for a few moments, letting him fall into a relaxing step with Shepard. Bunce continues on about whatever study her father is coordinating, but I only take half of it in.

I pause again, leaving Bunce looking at me with exasperation.

“Seriously, Basil, what are you doing?”

Without realizing what’s happening, Simon steps on the back of my shoe, making me stumble forward a bit.

“Serves you right,” Bunce mutters, walking forward.

I think I hear her say something about  _ boys _ , but I’m too busy focusing on Simon.

“Snow, these shoes are worth more than your entire outfit,” I say, trying my hardest not to laugh. “Do be more careful.”

“Baz I swear I’m paying attention! I didn’t think you were stopping!” 

His cheeks are going pink as he starts apologizing. Shepard gives me a weird look but shrugs it away.

We move back into stride again, getting closer to the cinema.

_ Once more _ .

I turn behind me to see Simon playing with his fingers, deep in thought. Shepard is talking to him about some goatman on a bridge, but he isn’t paying attention.

I wait until he looks up to pause.

I see it dawn on his face immediately.

“I knew it!” He shouts, face breaking out into a smile. “You’re doing it on purpose! You prat!”

“I have no clue what you’re talking about, Simon.” I start walking forward again, unable to stop the grin spreading on my face. 

Bunce is already at the ticket counter outside the theater, fed up with my antics and unwilling to wait any longer for me to catch up. We’re a block away, Simon stammering behind me.

He goes silent after a few moments, and I think I should pause one more time, so I do, seeing if I can get him once more.

What I don’t expect, however, is to feel arms around my neck and the full weight of him jumping on me.

I’m fast, luckily, catching his legs and helping them wrap around my torso. He kisses my neck.

“If you wanted to carry me, you could have just said so,” he laughs in my ear.

“You  _ would _ find a way to not walk the last block,” I say, smirking up at him.

He kisses me as we walk the last few feet.

“Are you both done now?” Bunce asks, tickets in the hand resting on her hip. 

I look up at Simon, readjusting his weight.

(He squeals as I do.)

“All good, Bunce, do continue,” I say, nodding my head towards the door.

She rolls her eyes and walks in. Shepard catches up to her, grabbing her free hand.

“I love you,” Simon whispers in my ear, kissing my neck one more time. 

“I love you too, Simon,” I whisper back.

“Enough to get extra butter on the popcorn?”

I roll my eyes.

“Fine.”

He kisses my cheek as we step in line, refusing to get down until we take our seats. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed!! Feel free to check me out on [Tumblr](http://tumblr.com/blog/caitybuglove23)


	8. Sneaky Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An anon prompt: Sneaking away to a hidden corner to share a secretive kiss.
> 
> (Fyi this is written in 3rd POV)

Baz and Simon are at a party, trying their hardest to stay away from each other.

_People don’t know about them yet_.

Simon watches Baz move around the room. They make eye contact sometimes but quickly look away.

“Simon, you’re staring,” Penny points out, catching him watching Baz. “What happened between you and Baz now?”

She says the last part as a groan. After years of being exhausted by their antics, Penelope has little tolerance for listening about Baz.

Simon moves his eyes away from Baz. 

_Everyone still thinks they hate each other._

(No one knows what happens behind closed doors.)

It started a few weeks ago, making Simon feel as if he'd been hit with a ton of bricks. 

He didn’t _hate_ Baz.

Quite the opposite, actually.

Simon finds his eyes moving back to Baz.

(They always do. It's almost as if he doesn't have control over his own body.)

They decided to keep it a secret for the time being. No one knows that Simon isn’t straight and Baz’s friends don’t know about his crush on him. 

“Oh, uh,” Simon starts, moving his eyes back to Penny. He hadn’t realized he’d been staring. He did, however, notice a smirk on Baz’s face as he looked away. _Tosser_. “He started yelling at me about my sheets today.”

It’s not a lie. 

_“Simon, I’m not making out with you on your bed while there are Spider-man sheets on,”_ he had told Simon. 

_“I don’t have other types of sheets, Baz!”_ He shouted back. _“Unless you’d rather the Batman set?”_

It only made Baz more frustrated.

_“You are a five-year-old,”_ he told Simon, shaking his head. 

Now Baz has a package of a grey set on the way. (He decided white would be a bad idea).

“I’m betting you’re glad to get away from him for the week,” Penny says, pulling Simon out of his thoughts.

It’s spring holiday soon.

But he _isn’t_ getting away from Baz. Quite the opposite; they're going to the beach together with his family. 

“Yeah, it’ll be refreshing to wake up and not see his sneer,” Simon jokes. He takes a sip of his drink.

It’s empty.

“Hey I’m going to go grab another, do you want one?” He asks.

She shrugs and nods.

"Yeah, alright," she supplies for an answer.

He walks away, searching for the kitchen. 

He’s pouring himself a drink when Baz enters.

_It’s just the two of them_.

“Hey,” Simon says softly.

“Hi,” Baz replies, glancing around. “I’ve been trying not to kiss you all night.”

Simon glances around too.

“Well, no one would see us, if we backed into the corner.” He pulls Baz by the waist to the corner of the kitchen. “And kissed here.”

He leans up into a kiss, feeling his body relax into it, as if it had been waiting for him to do this all evening.

(It probably had. He's been desperate for Baz since they arrived.)

“Your new sheets came in today,” Baz whispers when they break.

“So this means we can stop making out on top of your salt and vinegar crisp crumbs?” 

Baz glares but leans into a kiss again.

“Found them!” Penny shouts from the door. “They’re making out again, Dev.”

Simon and Baz jump apart.

“What?” Simon asks.

“What are you on about, Bunce?” Baz asks.

“Oh shove it, we’ve known for at least a week about you two,” she says, Dev and Niall appearing by her side. “You aren’t very good about hiding it.”

Simon looks up at Baz, who glances over.

“Well, Snow,” Baz says, reaching a hand out, “I guess we’ve been caught.”

Simon’s chest feels warm as he grabs Baz’s hand.

“I guess so,” he replies.

He leans up into another kiss.

“That doesn’t mean you guys can make out whenever you want!” Penny shouts, grabbing Simon’s arm. “Where is my drink?”

“Uh,” Simon stumbles.

“God, you’re both incompetent. I preferred the fighting,” she mutters, walking past Simon to the counter. 

Simon and Baz share a glance and a smile.

_They know now, no point in hiding it anymore._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading!
> 
> Feel free to check me out on [Tumblr](http://tumblr.com/blog/caitybuglove23)


	9. One Kiss Limit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt given by [TwoKisses](http://tumblr.com/blog/twokisses) on tumblr.
> 
> _Caity my love!!! would you do me the honour of writing 21. one kiss limit for the kiss prompt thing? 😚❤️_
> 
> Set the night before Simon and Baz's wedding.

Simon and I are getting married in the morning. We’ve been handling the chaotic nature of the pre-wedding week, filled with last-minute add-ons, familial breakdowns, and cake drama.

(It’s been dreadful.)

Penelope tried to keep us apart the night before, but she (along with superstitious traditions) never had a hope of keeping us apart. 

(We needed it. We’ve hardly had any time alone. Certainly, we won’t be getting any time for just the two of us tomorrow.)

He snuck into my room after swearing Shepard to secrecy (something about promising to tell him about the chimera we fought.) 

We both know that Bunce will find out in the morning, but I don’t think either of us cares very much. Nothing she can change about it. 

“Are you nervous?” He asks.

His arms are wrapped around my torso, squeezing me tight.

“About marrying you?” I ask. “Dreadfully so. I’ve signed myself up for a life of pastries and discussions about butter.”

Simon shifts and lifts himself up, a look of worry plastered on his face.

_ Maybe the night before the wedding wasn’t the time to make a joke _ .

“Are you really?” He asks.

“Simon.” I lift my hand up to cup his cheek, softening my expression, letting him see how I feel plainly on my face. “Of course I’m not nervous about marrying you. That’s the one thing I am confident about. I want to be married to you.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” he whispers, a smile replacing the worry on his face.

“I am, however, worried about the open bar and my aunt Fiona,” I say, pulling him down closer to me, letting him put his head in the space next to my neck. “I think  _ that _ mixed with Shepard and his innate persistence on talking with everyone could end poorly.”

Simon lets out a low whistle.

“Did Penny tell you about the kiss limit she is setting?” 

I frown.

“What?”

“Yeah.” He shifts to look up at me, holding his head up with his hand, elbow resting on the pillow next to me. “She said at the alter we can only kiss once and it shouldn’t last more than ten seconds.”

“And  _ why _ is she setting this limit?” I ask, wondering where Bunce gets off thinking she can limit our kissing.

I hadn’t planned to slip Simon the tongue in front of the crowd or anything.

_ But if Bunce is giving me a challenge… _

“She said she lived with us long enough to know how we operate. That the ceremony will take at least twice as long if she doesn’t physically restrain us.”

I hum in response, pondering my next move.

I put a finger under his chin, pulling him to me.

When I kiss him it’s not rough or rushed. It’s a kiss that says  _ forever _ .

_ Forever I will love you. _

He lets out a deep breath, shifting closer and leaning into the kiss.

I don’t count (I don’t need to. Not when I know I’ve got a lifetime of kisses coming my way. It’ll never be enough, not with him, not for me, but I know I don’t need to think of the time when we do) but it’s certainly longer than ten seconds.

Someone could come bursting in, telling me how we are nearly late for the ceremony, our lips sore from kissing, and I might believe them.

(I’d probably kiss him again, frankly.)

We part, and I open my eyes to see the man, who in less than twelve hours will be my husband. 

“Screw Penelope Bunce and her kiss limit,” I whisper, moving a curl off his forehead. “I’ll kiss my husband as much as I want.”

He laughs, leaning down close enough for our lips to touch, but not kiss yet.

“What about your fiancé?” He asks, letting me feel the words against my lips. 

I put my hand around his neck, pulling him down into a chaste kiss.

“Now my fiancé is a different story,” I say when we part. “He’s on borrowed time. There’s only-” I check my phone on the stand next to me. “Eleven hours and thirty minutes before my husband shows up. So he’ll need to get on with it.”

Simon smiles, a soft laugh coming from his mouth.

“Oh really now?” He jokes. 

“Yes,” I tsk in disappointment. “And he does get quite jealous too, so I’d suggest not dawdling and make sure to kiss me as much as you can.”

I try to keep a straight face, but when Simon’s laughter fills the room I can’t help but join in. 

Our last night before marriage is exactly how I’d hoped it would be.

Laughter, kisses, whispered confessions in the dark.

Reading our vows to only each other in the light of the moon, allowing the other to cry, kiss, and laugh in the privacy of each other’s presence. 

We do fall asleep eventually (for two hours), making sure to leave Simon enough time to sneak back to his room without being caught. 

**_________________________________________________________________________**

When Simon and I are standing at the alter, I catch eyes with a tearful Penelope and give her a wink and a smirk, before I lean in to kiss Simon.

This time I make sure to count.

1…

2….

Shouts of celebration come from the audience as I hit 12.

13…

14…

15…

When I get to 18 I hear Penelope groan.

But when we part, I see her smiling.

_ I knew she was bluffing.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Check me out on [Tumblr](http://tumblr.com/blog/caitybuglove23)


	10. Morning Kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From a prompt sent by an anon on tumblr asking for: Morning kisses that are exchanged before either person opens their eyes, kissing blindly until their lips meet in a blissful encounter.

It’s Saturday, which means I get to sleep in.

I _refuse_ to open my eyes before my alarm goes off. 

(Why do I even set the darn thing on the weekends?)

I shift closer to Simon, who remains softly snoring next to me.

_He’s so warm._

I put my head on his shoulder and run my hand over his chest.

He has a bit of hair, curling just like the hairs on his head.

I hear a deep breath, and I know he’s slowly waking up.

I kiss his shoulder.

_I love you_.

His neck.

_You’re so good_.

His jawline.

_I love you._

His cheek.

He moves his hand to my arm, squeezing softly.

_I love you too_ , it says.

I kiss his lips, softly and slowly.

The early morning moments, when we still have morning breath and bedhead, are some of my favorite. It’s soft. We don’t have our armor up, we aren’t arguing. 

(I haven’t even opened my eyes yet.)

His arms wrap themselves around my back and pull me close.

My heart feels like it could implode here and now.

Our kisses turn deeper.

I move to straddle him, needing _more_.

_Wanting…_

My alarm goes off and I jump, opening my eyes finally.

With our lips parted Simon opens his eyes too, looking up at me. He’s dazed and absolutely lovely.

I turn off the alarm next to us and lean down to kiss him again.

“Good morning,” I whisper between kisses. 

He smiles and sighs contentedly.

“Morning darling,” he whispers back.

I smile, leaning to kiss his neck.

I can’t believe I get to spend my mornings like this.

I see our rings on the nightstand, a light from a crack in the curtains hitting them.

_I get to spend_ every _morning like this._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Check me out on [Tumblr](http://tumblr.com/blog/caitybuglove23)


	11. Happy Birthday Simon Snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From a prompt given by [TheFlyingPeach](http://tumblr.com/blog/theflyingpeach) on Tumblr. 
> 
> _Playing w someone’s hair until they fall asleep_

I’m curled up on the couch staring blankly ahead at a nondescript spot on the wall. 

Penny and Baz are talking about something as he puts away dishes.

I tried to help, but he insisted.

Said it was my _birthday_.

I shouldn’t _have_ to clean up.

I’ve never known when my birthday was before.

This was the first year, and they decided to make it a big deal.

Baz got a cake, we had dinner delivered (can’t go out quite yet because of the pandemic… but it was nice nonetheless), and it's been overall lovely. 

“Do you want to watch a movie?” Penny asks.

Her face falls a bit, the ghost of a smile on her lips when she sees me balled up.

It’s been such an amazing day, why am I feeling so… 

I nod my head.

“Are you alright?” She asks quietly. “I hope today was fine.”

“It was great, Penny,” I say, smiling. 

I sit up slightly, leaning on my forearms, looking at her. My eyes start to sting but I try to hold it in.

(Don't cry, Simon. Not on your fucking _birthday_.)

“Really, this was wonderful,” my voice cracks. 

( _Fuck_.)

Baz’s head sticks out around the kitchen entrance. Immediately he looks worried.

“Simon,” he says quietly. 

I must really look a mess. He never uses my name unless he’s emotional.

Or if we are in private.

I smile up at him in reassurance and wipe away a tear.

“I’ve never had a birthday before,” I say quietly. “This was wonderful I just,” a breath, “I can’t believe how wonderful you both are.” 

Penny and Baz both give me a smile. It’s one of the ones that I know well. It reads sorrow, but also a twinge of guilt. Sometimes I think they feel like they should have cracked the case sooner.

They should have _known_ the mage was my…

(I don't think _any_ of us would have guessed that.)

Baz moves to sit next to me and wraps an arm around my shoulder, pulling me close and kissing the top of my head.

“You deserve this and so much more, love,” he says softly. 

I wipe a tear off my cheek in the same moment that he reaches to do so. 

“So, what movie are we going to watch?” I laugh. It comes out wetter and more pitiful than I mean it to, but it seems to diffuse the tension in the room.

“Birthday man’s choice,” Penny declares. 

“Here here, Bunce,” Baz concurs.

I purse my lips in thought.

“Die Hard,” I say, smirking over at them.

_They hate my movie choices_.

Baz chuckles and Penny rolls her eyes.

“Should have guessed,” she mutters, moving to play the movie.

Baz moves on the couch and pulls his legs up, raising an eyebrow in anticipation.

I grab a pillow and set it in his lap before lying there myself.

His fingers start to run through my curls, softly rubbing and making circles on my scalp.

“I love you,” he whispers. 

I look up and see his soft smile.

“I love you too,” I reply, grabbing his hand to kiss it.

I turn back to the tv as the movie starts to play. Penny and Baz talk quietly through it as he runs his hand through my hair. 

At some point I must fall asleep because the next thing I know Baz is softly waking me up.

“Hey,” he says when my eyes open.

I stretch and sit up.

“How long was I out?”

“For the last hour of the film,” Baz chuckles.

“Sorry.”

He kisses my forehead.

“Don’t be,” he stands up and reaches his hand out. “Ready to go to an actual bed?”

I nod and follow him back to my room.

When I pass the clock I see that it is 12:02. June 22nd. 

My birthday is officially over.

I can’t help but hope that next year’s is equally as great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Feel free to check me out on [Tumblr](http://tumblr.com/blog/caitybuglove23)


	12. The Onion Incident

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from [CinnamonBunnes](http://tumblr.com/blog/cinnamonbunnes):  
>  _KISSING PROMPTS #39 and #43 because ANGST_

Snow is in the kitchen, insistent upon making dinner.

_Chinese fried rice_.

He seemed excited so I let him do it. I didn’t have the heart to say no.

I’m going over notes for my statistics class when I hear a sniffle.

“Snow?”

“Yeah?” He responds.

His voice sounds pitched.

“Everything alright?”

“Yes, just cooking,” he responds.

I hear the knife hit the cutting board a few times.

I hear another sniffle, then the distinct noise of him blowing his nose.

_Something is wrong_.

I put down my notes and walk to the kitchen.

Snow is standing with a paper towel in his hands, having just blown his nose. There are a few tears going down his cheeks.

“Snow,” I say softly, walking towards him.

He tosses the paper towel into the bin, trying to wipe a few tears from his face.

“Love,” I say, holding his head up. “What’s wrong?”

This happens sometimes. The crying randomly, the pain and trauma sneaking back up.

“Nothing,” he chokes out, another tear falling from his eyes. “It’s stupid.”

“Love,” I lean forward and kiss his cheeks, helping to wipe away the tears, “it’s never stupid.”

“I was cutting the jalapenos,” Simon replies, leaning back, “and I forgot to wash my hands before I rubbed my eyes.”

I lean back and frown.

“What?”

“I know you like things spicy, so I was going to put them in,” he explains, gesturing to the cutting board.

A half chopped onion sits upon it.

“I thought it’d be fine, the stinging was rough, but I was powering through it,” he continues. He almost rubs a tear from his eye again, but I stop him, wiping it away for him. “I started dicing the onion and, well, I guess it didn’t help.”

“So you’re telling me,” I start, “you’re only crying because of a pepper and an onion?”

He frowns.

“Yeah? Why did you think I was crying?” He asks.

_Clueless idiot_.

I lean forward, laughing, and kiss the top of his head. 

“Love, you’re a complete moron. Let me get a wet cloth and wash some of it away.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! 
> 
> Check me out on [Tumblr](http://tumblr.com/blog/caitybuglove23)


	13. Call Me When You Get Home?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from [Krisrix](http://tumblr.com/blog/krisrix)
> 
> _Prompt: Call me when you're home?_

I’m stuck at the airport in New York after leaving on a business trip I didn’t want to go on.

It’s almost Christmas, it’s cold, and I want to be with Simon. 

I’m supposed to already be there with him, but the weather has been too horrible back home. All flights to London are at a standstill. 

“Snow?” I say into the phone after he answers. “My flight has been pushed back another three hours because of the storm. I’m sorry I won’t be home tonight.”

We were going to order in curry.

I was going to snog him senseless.

“I hope they don’t push it back again,” he replies. I hear noises behind him; people talking. “I got stuck at work because of the storm too, so I’ll be here late. The roads are awful, no one can seem to get in.”

“How much longer do you think you’ll be there?” I ask. 

I hear someone nearby talk about people getting hurt on the road. There is black ice so cars keep sliding around. A small sense of nervousness starts to peak its way into my chest. 

“I’m not sure,” he responds. I hear the noises muffle. He must have moved into the back room. “Maybe until close.”

I can see him in his stupid work apron. It’s green and absolutely hideous, but still infuriatingly charming.

I’m sure he’s frazzled and tired since his shift started at nine this morning, hair probably wildly sticking up in tiny poofs. 

I look at my phone to check the time. It’s 4 pm, meaning it’s already 9 there. 12 hours at the shop.

“Have you eaten?” I ask.

I’m sure he didn’t bring food with him. He was only supposed to be there for a few hours.

Even if he was to be there this long he would have forgotten.

“Yeah, I bought a sandwich,” he replies.

It’s quiet for a moment. I hear a baby cry nearby; parents frantically trying to get it to calm down.

“Good good,” I mutter. 

It’s quiet for another moment.

“I should probably-” he says at the same time I say “I don’t want to-”

We both pause

“You go first,” he chuckles. 

“I don’t want to keep you,” I say.

I do. I want him to hide from his boss and stay on the phone with me. I’d much rather listen to him droll on about some comic book than listen to this mother yell at her teenage daughter again. 

But it’s unfair of me to do that.

“Yeah,” he replies. “I was going to say I should probably go. Boss wants me to try to shovel part of the walk.”

I nod.

“Will you call me when you get home?” I ask.

Because I’m nervous. 

Because I worry.

Because I want to know he made it home safe.

_Because I want to hear his voice_. 

“Of course,” he says. I swear I can hear his smile. 

“Good. Be safe,” I tell him. “Will you walk?”

“Probably yeah. No sense in messing with cars or the bus right now. We’re not that far away.”

I’m thinking of his old ratty shoes.

_There’s not enough traction on them_.

“Let me know when your flight takes off, yeah?” 

I clear my throat.

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” 

“Good. Talk to you later, Baz.” 

“Talk to you later, Simon.”

The phone beeps and I already feel antsy.

I text him a quick ‘ _let me know when you leave the shop’_.

As long as he is at the shop he’s fine, but when he leaves I can judge properly how long it might take.

Just in case I don’t hear and I need to do something.

“ _Flight 3546 to London is canceled,”_ I hear over the speaker.

“Fuck,” I breath out.

The middle-aged mother across from me gives me a dirty look.

_Flight is canceled, going to rebook._ I text Simon. _Going to rent a hotel for the night. Don’t forget to call_. 

I slip the phone back into my pocket and head to find a hotel. 

**______________________________________________________________________________________**

Simon does end up slipping on the sidewalk, but makes it home in one piece.

We fall asleep on the phone, but not until after I order him a new pair of shoes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! 
> 
> Feel free to check me out on [Tumblr](http://tumblr.com/blog/caitybuglove23)


	14. Kisses on the Thigh and Forehead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from anon on tumblr.  
>  _Kisses on the thigh and Kisses on the forehead._
> 
> Just a little slice of life moment. Sleepy Snowbaz <3

**Simon**

It’s been one hell of a week. 

The world is falling apart (that’s dramatic, I know, but it sure as fuck feels that way), and I am absolutely exhausted. 

It feels like everything that  _ could _ go wrong  _ did _ . 

Baz had papers to work on, I had to pick up extra shifts for sick coworkers, neither of us has been getting very good sleep, and we’ve been missing each other.

(It’s like playing a game of phone tag- we can never manage to be in the same room at the same time. And if we do get to be together it’s while we are asleep. A quick kiss and quickly dropping off into unconsciousness.)

Today is the first day we can spend some  _ time  _ together. I’ve got a bag of salt and vinegar crisps for him, and some mint aero bars for me. (Though I am sure we will split them.)

We’ve got a date with our favorite snacks and the television. 

I make it to our door and manage to open the door one-handed. 

When I walk in I see Baz, on the sofa, curled up and asleep. His hair is falling around him, both draped upon the pillow, and a strand in front of his face.

His mouth is slightly open as he sleeps, softly letting out his breaths.

(I chuckle to myself, remembering all the times he called me a  _ mouth breather _ in school.)

I set down the snacks and take off my shoes, searching for a spot where I can fit.

(There is another sofa, but I’ve missed him too much. So sharing a sofa is necessary.)

I manage to curl up behind him, my head resting on his thigh and my feet pressed against the end of the sofa. 

“I love you, darling,” I whisper, and I kiss the only spot I can reach- his thigh.

I close my eyes and fall asleep pressed against him.

________________________________________________________________

**Baz**

When I open my eyes, I realize I had fallen asleep.

_ I was only supposed to have closed them for a moment _ .

I see crisps and chocolate on the coffee table and feel a pang in my chest.

_ Simon and I were supposed to be together this afternoon _ .

It’s going to be the first time we are able to consciously be together in a week, and I’ve ruined it.

I move my neck back and forth, trying to get rid of any stiffness from lying on the sofa. That’s when I realize there is a heavy pressure on my legs.

I sit up slightly, leaning up on an elbow, and see a dead asleep Simon Snow curled behind me, arms wrapped around my calves. 

“Hello there,” I whisper, attempting to see if he’s awake. 

He doesn’t respond.

(Asleep, then.)

I slowly move my legs out of his grasp, careful not to wake him. 

The sky is turning a dull orange color, blues mixing with purples and pinks, so I know it must be nearly dinner time. 

I stand up and stretch and lean down.

“I love you,” I say softly, kissing his forehead, running my hand through his hair. He shifts slightly and lets out a soft sigh, but doesn’t open his eyes.

I walk to our bedroom with my mobile, planning to quietly call for takeaway for when he wakes up. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check me out on [Tumblr](http://tumblr.com/blog/caitybuglove23)


	15. A Kiss for Every Year Alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from [Unconfirmed_Vampire](http://tumblr.com/blog/uncomfirmed_vampire): A kiss for every year alive.
> 
> Cue a Simon Snow bday fic (:
> 
> (Slight angst.)

I’m sitting on the roof looking up at the stars.

I’ve determined that having wings has many benefits. 

  1. Flying myself and Baz out of harm's way in Nevada. 
  2. Covering the two of us in bed so we can pretend we are secluded. (It also helps Baz stay warm.)
  3. Flying up on the roof, where no one else is able to go. 



I can sit up here for ages and just look at the stars. The moon isn’t in the sky tonight (a new moon) so the stars are left to shine on their own. 

It’s fairly warm out, being the middle of summer, so I’m only wearing a shirt and joggers. It’s a bit hot, even, in just that. But there’s a nice breeze to cool me off. 

I’m not sure how long I’ve been out here, contemplating life and trying to keep any swelling panic from coming back to the surface, but I’m sure Baz is out there probably worrying about me. 

(Always does.)

He’s a good man.

(A good boyfriend.)

It’s June 20th. 

The day before my birthday. 

(It’ll be the first time that I really know when my birthday is.)

I think they’ve got something planned. Nothing large or big, but something just me, Baz, Penny, and Shepard.

I haven’t decided yet how I feel about it. 

I always wanted to have a birthday. The kids at the home would have cake and get a donated gift when it was theirs. 

They never knew when mine was. Just guess I was born in 97 (which was true, in the end actually) and would give me a gift whenever they had extra.

(Sometimes a couple years would roll by before they remembered that the birthday-less kid hadn’t gotten anything.)

But now that I know, it feels odd. I’m not used to the parties or gifts. 

(The cake, however, I'm looking forward to.)

I take a deep breath as panic begins to encroach upon me again, making my breath shallow and quick. 

I hear a noise from below. 

(Fire escape?)

Even the fire escape doesn’t come up this high. You need a special key to get up here. 

I hear a lock click and I jump, realizing that someone may have called about the half dragon half man sitting on the roof. 

(No one has before. I think Londoners just keep to themselves. They see enough odd things on the road, they may not even question it.)

“It’s me,” I hear as I see the top of a head over the side of the roof. 

I frown.

“Baz? How’d you get up here? I thought it was locked.”

“I’m a bloody  _ mage _ Simon, how do you  _ think _ I got up here?” 

_ Oh. Right _ .

He steps over and brushes off his pants before walking closer to me. 

“Are you okay?” He asks. 

I look back up to the stars. There is a particularly bright one I’ve been staring at for a while. 

(Sometimes people buy stars in memory of a loved one. I don’t have the money for it, or even the knowledge of how, but I’ve named this one Lucy after my mum. I think it would fit her. Or at least what I know of her.)

“I’m alright, yeah,” I reply, looking up to it. 

What would birthdays have been like with her around? 

Baz takes a seat next to me and looks up at the sky as well. 

“When I was young,” he starts, moving closer to me. Our shoulders touch and I let my head fall onto his shoulder. “My mother and I would come outside on clear nights like this, and she’d show me how to identify constellations in the sky.” 

I let him pause, waiting for him to continue. 

“So I still come out sometimes and look up and think of her.” He reaches a hand over and places it on my knee, giving it a light squeeze. “But I also wouldn’t mind coming out here and doing the same with you, if you’d ever like.” 

I think for a moment before responding. 

“I think I’d like that,” I say quietly, lifting my head up to look at him.

He leans in and kisses me, pulling me close by the back of my neck. 

It’s nice and lovely, causing my brain to blissfully shut off, and give my body something else to do. 

I try to pull back once, but he doesn’t allow it, so I give in.

But then it keeps going and I open my eyes and frown. His hand is still on my neck, fairly tight, and his eyes are closed.

(His eyelashes are so long for a bloke.)

_ Focus, Simon. _

“Baz?” I manage around our lips. 

He hums in response.

“Can I breath, maybe, for a moment?” I ask.

It all comes out muffled as he still hasn’t let me part. 

“Not yet,” he says, sighing closer into me. 

I close my eyes again.

It does feel  _ nice _ .

(But also- a bit odd.)

“What are you playing at?” I ask. 

I can feel his smile against my lips. 

He moves slightly, not allowing us to completely separate, but also backs enough away that I can breath a bit. 

“It’s after midnight,” he says, his lips brushing against mine for every word.

I wait a moment for him to explain. 

“Meaning it’s your birthday, Snow. Therefore you get birthday kisses.”

“So is your masterful plan to snog me all day?” I ask. 

He lets me pull back and opens his eyes.

“A kiss for every year alive,” he says, as if it explains anything. “So for the first 23 minutes of your birthday, I plan to kiss you.”

I huff out a laugh.

“You’re insane,” I say, my smile growing bigger.

He smiles back and raises an eyebrow.

“Insane for  _ you _ ,” he jests, leaning in. “Now, please lean in, we’ve still got 15 minutes to go of proper snogging. Can't break proper birthday protocol.” 

I pull him close by his waist and let him continue. 

(Not like I would complain about a birthday rule such as this anyway. Not when it’s from Baz.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Feel free to check me out on [Tumblr](http://tumblr.com/blog/caitybuglove)


	16. Rubber Ducky, You're the One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from [Adamarks](http://tumblr.com/blog/adamarks):
> 
> _just for me Caity, please do something with a rubber duck_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bold= Simon
> 
> Itals= Baz

_ [19:39] Do you know what happened to the rubber duck? _

**[19:40] Huh?**

_ [19:40] James is crying. Says he won’t take a bath without it.  _

**[19:41] Is it not in the drawer?**

_ [19:42] I’ve checked every drawer in this house, Snow.  _

_ [19;42] It’s nowhere to be found.  _

After another second I feel my phone vibrate. I look down to read his response but see that it’s a phone call instead. 

“Please, I just want to put him to bed. But he’s covered in mud and won’t get into the tub,” I say as soon as I press the answer button. 

“Er,” Snow mutters. 

A pause follows. All I can hear is the clinking together of two blocks as James plays in the living room. 

“Snow, if you did something to this fucking duck I will-”

“I didn’t do anything!” He interrupts. “It just- maybe- got flushed down the toilet.” 

Silence. A moment passes where I don’t even hear Snow’s breath. 

(He must be holding it, nervous for whatever is to come.) 

I remember two nights ago, Simon spending too long in the bathroom. I heard the plunger and repeated flushing. 

I assumed…

“Snow-”

“I’m leaving work now,” he says. “I’ve got a replacement already in hand. Be home in twenty.” 

I hear him hit the end button. 

_ Bloody coward. _

I walk back to the living room to see James stacking cubes on top of each other, trying to make a tower. 

That’s when I get an idea. 

(And Simon is going to  _ hate it _ .)

____________________________

“Home!” Simon shouts from the other room. 

James and I are in the bathroom. I’m sitting on the toilet, watching as he picks bubbles up and makes a beard on his chin. 

We are loads better than we were about fifteen minutes ago. 

“In here!” I shout, watching James sink under the water.

Simon walks in, panting, with a rubber duck in his hand. 

It’s the typical kind. Yellow and small, but with one small detail.

_ Sunglasses. _

I raise an eyebrow and look up at Simon. 

He shrugs.

“It was the only kind the store had,” he replies, putting it on the water. “Where’s James?”

I look back to the water, waiting for the inevitable. 

A moment passes before James jumps up and screams. 

Simon jumps back, laughing, pretending to be scared. 

“Woah there,” he says, kneeling next to the tub, pushing some of his hair back. 

James has my hair. Black and long. 

(Absolutely gorgeous, too.)

But he has Simon’s freckles. They fit him so well. 

Simon looks up at me, an obvious question clear on his face. 

_ How’d you get him into the tub? _

I look back down, waiting for the realization to hit. 

If there is one thing James loves more than his rubber duck, it’s…

“Dada!” He shouts. “Look!”

He lifts the gaming controller up from the water and pretends he is driving a car. 

Simon, ever the good sport, smiles at James, then looks over at me. 

“Oh, that’s great,” he says. 

I shrug in return, giving him a taste of his own medicine, and then stand up from the toilet.

“Well, I’m going to get ready for bed,” I say, walking to the bedroom. 

As I walk down the hall, I hear Simon pleading for his controller. 

(Fat chance, Snow.) 

I’ve already ordered another, but the  _ look _ on Snow’s face was worth it all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Check me out on [Tumblr](http://tumblr.com/blog/caitybuglove23)


	17. The Tape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baz and Simon find a VHS tape in the living room.
> 
> What is on it is a shock to them both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt given by [Un-confimed-vampire](http://tumblr.com/blog/unconfirmed-vampire):
> 
> “ i’m afraid that if i let you see every side of me, you should shrink back in fear or disgust. ” :)

Simon and I are sitting on the sofa, flipping through channels on the television. 

“There’s nothing,” he groans, turning it off.

I flip the next page of my book, having given up on his journey through cable ten minutes ago. 

“We could watch a movie,” I suggest.

“I’m not feeling Netflix.” He puts the remote on the coffee table. 

“There are  _ actual _ movies.” I put down my book.  _ Page 134 _ is etched into my brain for later. “Like the disc ones, you put them in the-”

“I  _ know _ what a DVD is, Baz.” 

I roll my eyes and move to the floor. 

_ Surely there has to be something in their collection of movies here _ .

I see a few action movies (Simon), some documentaries (Penelope), and a couple horror films (I’d assume that is Shepard’s doing.) 

After a moment I find a VHS tape. It’s marked:  _ P. Bunce 2006. _

I frown. 

“Do you have a VHS player?” I ask, turning to face Simon. He’s picking at his nails when I ask, so his head jerks up, looking down at the tape in my hand.

“Huh?”

I wave the tape in the air.

“This- do you have something for this?” I ask.

He frowns. 

“I’ve never seen that before,” he says, getting off the couch and moving closer to me. He grabs the tape and reads it. “Is this a video of Penelope?”

“Either that or one of the other hundreds of P. Bunce’s in the world.” 

He stares at it for a little longer. I almost open my mouth to suggest moving to the bedroom and make out for the night instead, but then a light bulb clicks in his brain.

“I think I know where a player is,” he says, standing up fast and running down the hall. 

I hear a few crashes and some cursing before he returns.

“She should be home soon,” he explains, walking to the T.V. stand, cords dangling from the device. “We should get her permission before watching.”

I nod, helping him get the device set up. 

She walks in to us sitting on the floor with the cords plugged into the outlet and the television.

We all freeze. Simon and I are watching for her reaction. She’s watching us, clearly trying to put pieces together.

The door closes with a light thud behind her.

“What’s going on?” She asks, dropping her keys in the bowl by the door. 

“Er,” Simon says. I look over and see red starting to crawl up to his face. 

“We found this,” I say, saving him. I lift the tape up so she can read it. “We were hoping we could watch.”

Bunce’s eyes go wide.

“No, definitely not,” she says, reaching to grab for it.

I let her grab it easily. I’m not in the business of  _ forcing _ her to let us watch. But I’d be lying if I said my interest wasn’t piqued. 

I assumed the tape would have some kind of baby video on it. Something her mom brought over to watch on a birthday and gush over.

But that reaction means it’s something more than an innocent kid video.

“What’s on it?” I ask, standing up. Simon reaches for the plugs to put it away but I hold out a hand.

_ Hopes not lost yet, Snow.  _

“Something neither of you need to see,” she says, sitting on the chair and examining the tape.

“Bunce.” I sit on the couch, as close to her as I can without raising suspicions. “I’ve seen you sobbing your eyes out in a plate of buffalo blasts at the cheesecake factory. I think I’ve seen every side of you there could be.”

She turns to me and rolls her eyes.

“Yes, good on you Basil, but this  _ particular _ side of me should remain unknown.”

“Then why keep the tape in the open?” Simon asks from the floor.

I smirk.

“Yes, Bunce, why is it out where any unsuspecting Simon could find it?” I ask. “Or Shepard, for that case.”

She frowns.

“For your information, Shepard has  _ already  _ seen it.”

My eyes go wide.

“Penelope Bunce did you and Shepard-”

“Finish that sentence and die.” She raises a finger threateningly.

I close my mouth. 

“What’s going to be the worst that happens if we see it, Pen?” Simon asks, moving to sit on the coffee table. 

She sighs. 

“You’ll never see me the same again,” she says. “Shepard wouldn’t let it go for a week. You two.” She gestures to both of us. “Would be even worse.”

We look towards each other, silently agreeing.

She lets out a moan.

“You’re never going to let it go, will you?” She asks.

“You’ve always been the smart one,” Simon jests, reaching a hand out.

She hands it over willingly, curling her legs under herself as Simon walks the tape to the player.

I move so I can see the screen.

By the time Simon clicks play and sits down it’s begun.

But it’s a commercial. 

I wonder, for a moment, if this is what we are watching, but then the commercial ends and the programme starts.

A beat starts on the screen and I see a nine-year-old Penelope Bunce dancing on the screen. 

A song plays and her lips move.

It takes my brain all too long to realize that it is  _ her _ singing. 

“Bunce- I thought you said you couldn’t sing?” I ask. 

Simon’s jaw is open in shock, watching her sing and dance in front of him.

“Oh I can’t,” she explains. “This is autotuned to filth.”

I nod.

(It is. Sounds awful, really.)

“How did your parents let-”

“They didn’t. It was my aunt.” Bunce sighs, pulling her hair back into a bun. “She snuck me into this. And I was nine years old, I thought it was  _ exciting _ .” 

I look back to the screen and watch as she falls dramatically into a crowd of people.

She groans. 

“It’s so bad.” She stands up and walks to the player, pulling the tape out. 

I look at Simon, who is still staring at the screen in shock. 

“Well, I hope you got your fill, boys.” She opens the tape and rips the tape out of it. “Because you’re never watching it again.”

She dumps it in the trash can and walks out.

“Wait!” Simon shouts, catching up. 

“Good night, Simon!” She shouts in response. I hear her bedroom door slam shut behind her and we sit in silence. 

We stare at the screen again, thinking of what was just playing on it. 

“Penny,” Simon whispers, stopping before completing his thought.

“Yes,” I respond to what he left unsaid. 

_ Penelope Bunce was a one-hit-wonder.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this drabble lol.
> 
> Feel free to check me out on [Tumblr](http://tumblr.com/blog/caitybuglove23)


	18. You'll always have a home with me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt given by [Pal](http://tumblr.com/blog/palimpsessed):  
>  _Hi Caity! Okay, so, prompts...either one of these or both (but like, don’t kill yourself) would be lovely. Thank you!!_  
>  “I want to love the parts of you that you hate.”  
> “you’ll always have a home with me.”
> 
> Just so you know this chapter is a bit more angsty, with themes of anxiety and a bit of dissociation. Feel free to not read if you feel this might be triggering for you.

I’m pacing back and forth outside of Baz’s building, trying to get the courage to walk up. 

_ He said I could come any time I needed to _ . 

(I could have called him.)

_ Shit- I should have. This has to be rude- right? Just showing up here. _

I pull my phone out of my pocket. The light doesn’t come on immediately when I lift it, so I press the side button. 

(Red battery light comes on.  _ Fuck _ .)

I look back at the building and take a deep breath. 

He’s probably busy. Baz has exams this week, so he’s staying at his own flat to work.

(Well- he got kicked out of ours by Penelope because she can’t  _ concentrate _ while both of us are around.)

Apparently, we  _ get on her nerves _ or something. 

I take a step closer, I can see the keypad by the door. 

_ It’s not that big of a deal.  _

_ I should just deal with it alone.  _

My heart pounds, reminding me how much it’s been racing. 

_ Yeah, alright, I see your point. _

I take a step closer. 

_ Stupid, stupid, you’re being ridiculous. _

I lift a finger and press the button. 

The buzzing sound rings in my ears as I hold my breath. 

“Hello?” I hear Baz ask. 

“It’s me,” I croak.

I clear my throat, opening my mouth to try to say it again. 

“Simon?” He asks.

_ Oh shit. I should have said my name _ .

“Yeah,” I respond dumbly. 

I hear the buzzing go off again, cuing me to go inside. I stare at the buttons for a little too long, but manage to get the door open anyway.

It feels like my skin is going numb. My legs are moving out of my own control. 

I press the button to the lift. It opens immediately, and it takes me up. 

_ What do I tell Baz? _

I walk out, moving slowly down the hallway.

_ Do I say the truth? _

I find his door and stare at it for a moment.

_ Do I pretend everything is alright? _

I reach a hand up to knock, but freeze before it hits the wood. 

_ This is dumb.  _

I put my hand down and sigh. 

When I start to turn I hear the door open.

“Simon?” Baz asks, looking me up and down. 

I open my mouth and close it again. 

_ Deep breath. _

“I’m sorry.”

_ Not what we meant to say, but alright, Simon.  _

Baz raises an eyebrow.

“You’re sorry?”

I nod.

He reaches a hand for me, waiting. I stare at it for a moment before placing my own in it.

_ A tug. _

“Come inside, Simon,” he whispers.

_ A plea.  _

I step forward and over the threshold, the door softly shutting behind me. 

“What’s wrong?”

I wince. 

“It’s nothing I just-”

_ It all started hitting again.  _

The fear. The pain. The loss.

Right when I think things are getting better- when I finally have it figured out.

It hits. 

And I feel restless- but also exhausted. 

Baz searches my eyes.

“I’m sorry I came- I know you’ve got exams.”

He puts his forehead against mine. I take a deep breath.

The scent of him alone manages to calm me down some. 

“Simon, you’re always welcome here.”

He wraps his arms around my waist. I put mine around his neck.

“It’s fine, really-”

“No, Simon.” He leans back to look into my eyes. “I mean it. You’ll always have a home with me.”

I let myself sit in his words for a moment. 

His eyes are grey, warm, and welcoming. 

I feel my tail wrap around his thigh.

_ There you are. _

Penny’s spell must have started to wear off. 

I put my head on his shoulder. 

“Thanks,” I croak.

_ I’m turning into a frog tonight, it seems. _

He pulls me in tighter, head resting on my own.

“Always, Simon,” he whispers, kissing my hair. “I love you.” 

My chest squeezes slightly.

“I love you too,” I respond. It’s quiet. 

(Maybe too quiet.)

But he’s a vampire- I trust he can hear me. 

We stand there, him running a hand up and down my back, as my body starts to calm down and come to earth. 

“Do you want to lie down?” He asks after a moment. 

I feel exhausted.

_ Sleep doesn’t sound half bad. _

I nod. 

He walks me back to his room, pulls out his drawers for pyjamas.

I look inside, spotting his Watford football shirt in a drawer.

“This is fine,” I say, reaching for it. He raises an eyebrow but doesn’t ask anything more.

It feels right.

I pull my shirt over my head, replacing it with his. 

When we get into bed, my head on his chest and his hand tracing through my hair, I can’t help but apologize again. 

He asks why and I pause.

_ What  _ aren’t  _ I apologizing for? _

I crinkle my nose. 

He kisses it. 

“If you can’t find the words, that’s okay. We can talk whenever you’re ready.”

I move my chin to look up at him. 

“And that’s okay?”

“Yes. It’s okay if you don’t know what to say yet, Simon.”

He takes a deep breath.

“I love you. And I want to help.”

He shifts so we are both on our sides, looking at each other. One of my wings feels squished, but I ignore it. 

I’ll stretch it out in a bit. 

“Does being here, with me, help you?” He asks. 

I nod.

It does- of course it does. 

I sleep easier with him breathing next to me. My anxiety eases when I know he is here and safe. Even the small noises he makes as he studies, or the way he kicks his football against the wall softly while he’s practicing his memorization, help to calm me down. 

“Good,” he replies, pulling me close again. “That’s all I want. I want you to talk, of course. But I won’t push you if you’re not ready.”

I squeeze my eyes.

“I hate that it’s hard,” I say, softly. “Getting the words out- I mean. I wish I could just-” I move back, rubbing my face with my hands. “I wish I could just get it out like everyone else. I hate that I can’t.” 

Baz pushes my newly tousled curls back. 

“I love you,” he whispers, kissing my forehead.

“Even if I’m bad at talking?”

He kisses between my eyebrows. 

“I love all of you.” He kisses my temple. “Even the parts of you that you hate.” My nose. “I want to love it all.” 

He kisses my chin.

When he moves again I lift his chin up to kiss his lips. 

_ I love you, I love you, I love you _ .

We shift again, my body above his, my wings stretched wide behind him. 

I fall asleep with his breathing.

_ You’ll always have a home with me. _

He’ll always be my home. 

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to [Birdy](http://tumblr.com/blog/snowverylost) for looking this over really quick for me.
> 
> Feel free to check me out on [Tumblr](http://tumblr.com/blog/caitybuglove23)


	19. I like when you look at me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From a prompt on tumblr from [Birdy](http://tumblr.com/blog/snowverylost)  
>  _"You see the good in everything, that's why I like it when you look at me." prompt. 😪💖_
> 
> Normal AU mixed with implied high school.

Simon Snow is a mess.

A nightmare.

A complete travesty. 

_ And I can’t figure out why he keeps staring at me _ . 

(Not that I want it to stop- but it’s  _ odd _ . He knows I’m here. We  _ drove _ together.)

Is he checking on me?

“Mate, you all right?” 

I turn, almost tripping myself, to the voice speaking to me. 

_ Fucking leg. _

“I’m fine, Niall,” I reply coolly, turning back around. 

When I look forward I can see the players clearly. I can  _ also _ see a straight shot of Simon in my periphery, talking to Bunce and consistently looking my way. 

“How’s the ankle?” Niall asks.

I sigh.

“Still sprained, but doing better.”

Doctor said it would have been better if I had completely broken it. That it would have been easier to heal. 

(My aunt didn’t find it funny when I jokingly said I could break it myself if need be.)

I see Dev miss a pass and I grumble under my breath.

_ He’s too busy trying to show off _ . 

(It’ll cost us a lot more than a missed pass if he keeps it up.)

I feel Simon move next to me, and I try to fix my posture. 

_ He keeps looking at me _ .

(But I don’t want him to ever look away.)

When he looks at me I feel weightless. 

It used to make me want to throttle him. But now…

_ Now I never want him to look away. _

Someone shouts for Niall and he leaves us be, not even saying goodbye. 

“They’re shit without you,” Simon says.

I groan.

“It’s pitiful. A team shouldn’t rely on one player so much.”

I turn around to look at Simon. He’s watching the field, brows furrowed.

“What is Gareth doing?” He asks.

I look.

Gareth is running towards our goal with the ball. His face is lit up with excitement. People are shouting.

I look away.

“Tell me when it’s over,” I mutter, squeezing my eyes shut. 

No amount of bracing myself could have prepared me for the loud groan from the audience around us. 

Simon lets out a low whistle. 

“We should go.”

He looks up at me, confused. “Why?”

“I can’t do this. It’s not like I can help them.” I gesture to the current brace on my leg. “We can get food- I’m sure you’re hungry.”

He gives a shrug and starts for the car.

His eyes still don’t leave me.

It makes me feel warm, the way he looks at me. 

It’s not a normal glance, I don’t think. It’s purposeful.

_ Meaningful. _

I hear cheers from behind us, and pray that they are for our team.

We get into the car and he glances over to me as he turns the key in the ignition. 

“Do I have something on my face, Snow?” I ask. 

He looks confused.

“No?” He responds.

“You keep looking at me.”

“You look really nice tonight, is all,” he says, buckling his seatbelt. 

My mouth opens, but nothing comes out.

(What the fuck am I supposed to say to  _ that _ ?)

“I’ll stop,” he says, shifting gears and reversing

A pause. 

“Staring, that is. I don’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”

“You’re not.”

I stare forward, realizing my mistake.

“I’m not?” He asks. 

He makes a right turn onto the road, and I’m trying to guess where he is going. 

Maccies would have been a left, so it’s not that. 

I clear my throat.

“No.”

He makes another turn, as if he is driving home. He gives me a sideways glance, smiling at me. 

I feel heat rising to my cheeks.

“Do you like when I look at you?”

I manage to glance at him, seeing the bright smile on his face that always manages to warm my heart.

“Yes.”

His smile grows, and I turn to take it in full. To let it wash over me.

He’s still watching the road, but the smile is still plastered wide on his face. 

We hit a light and he turns to look at me. 

The way he looks at me makes me feel unbreakable.

Untouchable by anything.

Simon Snow paints a clear view of his emotions on his face. And when he looks at me, I think I can find all the answers I’m looking for.

(If I let myself, at least.)

“Why?” He asks.

He places his hand on mine.

(It’s so warm.)

“When you look at me, it’s as if-”  _ god am I really going to say it? _ ”-I’m good too.”

His head cocks to the side.

“You see the good in everything,” I say, my hands flying in the air. “I don’t know how you do it. Even when things were-” 

_ Fuck, don’t go there _ .

“I just mean,” I say, softer this time. “You see the good in everything. So when you look at me I feel good too. It makes me feel like  _ I  _ could be one of those good things in your life.”

Simon stares at me a moment longer, leaning in slightly.

I wonder, for a moment, if he’s about to do what I  _ think _ is crossing his mind.

A car honks behind us, and we both jump.

Simon shifts gears again and we pull through the intersection.

“You are good,” he says, continuing the conversation. “More good than most.”

I look down at my lap, smiling to myself, letting his words absorb into me. 

“And I  _ like _ to look at you.”

I look back up, he makes another turn.

_ Is he taking me home? _

We sit in silence for a couple minutes (an eternity, perhaps.) He misses the street where I live, and I still can’t figure out where he is taking us for food. 

“Where are we going, Snow?”

He shrugs.

“I was waiting for you to tell me,” he responds.

I roll my eyes.

“Pull over.”

He does. There’s a park next to us that’s empty. 

(It’s a bit creepy, if I’m being honest. But it works.)

“Baz,” he says at the same time I say “Simon.”

We both freeze, waiting for the other.

I sigh.

“You first, Snow.”

He smiles, looking at me in  _ that _ way again.

The way that makes my insides twist.

“I like you, Baz.”

My mouth goes dry.

_ Am I hallucinating? _

“I like you a lot and-” he clears his throat. “I’d like to take you out, if you’d let me.”

I remind myself to keep breathing.

(Imagine passing out in a dark car park outside of a playground after being asked out on a date. Pitiful.)

“You-” a breath. “Want to take me out? Like, on a date?”

He laughs softly.

“Yeah, something like that.”

I blink once, twice, trying to get my brain to compute.

I turn to face the dashboard, composing my features.

“Well then,” I say,” Get on with it.”

“Huh?” He asks.

“The date.” I fix my hair in the side mirror. “We’ve got a few hours before either of us needs to be home.” I turn to face him again. “Woo me, Simon Snow. Show me what it’s like to date you.”

He smiles again, realizing what I’m agreeing to.

“Alright, I can do that,” he responds. 

He turns the car back on, putting both hands on the steering wheel.

We sit for a moment.

“Snow-”

“I have no clue where we are.” He interrupts.

I laugh.

“If you make a right we’ll hit a street filled with restaurants.”

“Thanks,” he says, sighing with relief. 

He turns down the road, and we find a place to eat. 

_ A date with Simon Snow. _

Dinner, talking, a  _ kiss _ before he drops me off. 

I walk to the door, cursing my bad ankle, but smiling nonetheless. 

My cheeks hurt from it, but my soul feels full. 

I get a notification on my phone. A text from Simon. 

**_Could we do this again tomorrow?_ **

_ A second date with him. _

I close the door behind me and watch his lights go down the road. 

I send him a text. One word, but an answer.

_ Yes. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Feel free to check me out on [Tumblr](http://tumblr.com/blog/caitybuglove23).


	20. A Big Warm Hug

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon learns who his parents are.
> 
> He is, understandably, upset, and tearful.
> 
> Agatha and Penelope give him hugs.
> 
> And Baz...
> 
> Baz yearns for the day they can do the same.
> 
> (Post WS. Angst. Pining in an established relationship? We love that haha.)

Baz

Simon is crying on the sofa.

He’s looking at a photo Wellbelove gave him, fingers probably leaving prints all over. 

I see a tear make contact with it, perfectly hitting the face of his mother.

_His mother._

I can’t believe, after all this time, he was _meant_ to be a mage.

_Magickal parents don’t give up their children._

(Guess the mage was always the exception as far as being a decent human.)

Wellbelove is sitting to his left, Bunce to his right. I’m sitting on the coffee table in front of him, hands on my knees and eyes on him.

_How do we fix this?_

__

Simon Snow, you beautiful yet broken man.

__

_How will you get past this? Past the knowledge of your parents, your mother’s death, your father who was so close- but never loved you properly._

(There’s no way. He was already so gone. Now what? No chaotic road trip around America could fix this.)

“Simon?” Wellbelove whispers. Her hand is on his shoulder. I think, for a moment, that I should feel jealous about the small gesture.

That she can touch him and he doesn’t recoil. He doesn’t hide.

(But I’m far too worried for jealousy.)

He’s still staring at the photo, not responding. 

I put my hand on one of his knees and softly rub my thumb against his jeans.

(I’m testing the waters.)

_Will you let me touch you, Simon Snow?_

He looks up for a moment, blue eyes surrounded by red and sorrow meeting my own. 

“She-” 

It’s broken, he can’t get more than the word out. It’s as if someone spelled his throat closed.

I open my mouth to say…

_I don’t know what to say._

I’m sorry?

The Mage was a dick? I’m glad he’s dead?

(That last one would be more for me than for him.)

It’s then that Agatha wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him close. His eyes go wide for a moment out of shock, but he leans into it.

Bunce gasps out a sob and throws herself at him as well, burying herself in his neck. 

All three of them are sobbing now. Bunce is mumbling something about how much his mother loved him, how he deserves so much more than the mage.

Agatha has her hand in his hair, patting it down.

I look down, my hand still on his knee.

I pull back.

He looks at me.

“I’m going to grab some tea,” I state, standing and walking towards the kitchen. 

I imagine, for a moment, that he follows me. In another world, where we do things like that. 

Where we comfort each other without abandon. 

He would follow me. 

He would wrap his arms around me and let me pull him close. I could hold him tight, kiss the tears from his face, let him melt into me as his world crumbles yet again. 

That I get a part of him no one else can have, could even imagine. 

My shirt would get soaked from tears, but I wouldn’t mind. Even if it were my favourite shirt, I wouldn’t care.

I set the kettle as I hear soft words and sobs from the other room.

_It should be me._

There’s a pit in my stomach at the thought. That I should be the one there, pulling him close and telling him how loved he is.

(Because he is.)

(He’s loved more than he could ever imagine.)

But- we’ve yet to say it.

Things are happening so fast. America. The NowNext. Watford.

_His parents. ___

(I’m pretty sure he meant to break up with me anyway. Perhaps it’s best we didn’t say those words. Didn’t put them out in the world.)

___It would be harder to say goodbye if I knew what it was like to hear that I am loved by you. If I knew what it was like to tell you that I love you.___

(I love you so much.)

____

I grab the four cups and walk back to the sofa. 

____

Bunce and Wellbelove pull back and grab their respective teas, both starting to mumble and wiping their tears. 

____

Bunce mutters something about calling Shepard, Agatha mutters something about how I didn’t make her tea correctly. They stand up and walk in different directions. 

____

I move to the sofa, taking Bunce’s spot. 

____

I hold out his tea and he gives a nod, grabbing it and lifting it to his lips.

____

I imagine kissing his forehead.

___You are good.___

Letting him put his head in my lap.

___You are loved.___

Running my fingers through his hair and comforting him as he cries. 

___You are worthy of more than what the world wanted from you.___

Instead, I sip my tea.

____

And when Simon lets me grab his hand, I consider it a win.

____

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you [Liz](tumblr.com/blog/foolofabookwyrm) for looking this over!
> 
> Feel free to check me out on [Tumblr](tumblr.com/blog/caitybuglove23)


	21. A Hug In the Air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baz has been tutoring Simon, preparing him for finals.
> 
> But now he's got his grades to look at.
> 
> And a crush on his tutor.
> 
> Luckily, both fears get resolved in the matter of minutes.

Simon

I’m staring at my computer screen, one click away from finding out my final grades for the semester. 

Baz is sitting on his bed, acting nonchalant, but he’s listening.

(I know he is.)

He’s worked as hard as I did on these scores, it’s natural he’d be curious.

I raise my hand, trying to convince myself to press the mousepad. To go forward.

Fuck.

“I can’t do it,” I state, closing my laptop and running my hands over my face.

I’m resigned to never know. Who cares what grades I made this semester? I’ll certainly find out what happened if I’m not allowed back next year. 

(At what point do universities kick you out? After the first, second, or third failed semester?)

“Snow,” He drawls, sitting up, putting the book he was pretending to read down.

(I know he was pretending. He hadn’t flipped a page in ten minutes.)

“Pitch,” I growl.

I _hate_ when he calls me Snow. 

He pauses, an eyebrow raised and a smirk on his lips. 

“If you won’t look, can I?” He asks instead of letting loose whatever insult he was going to say. “I worked hard tutoring you this past month, and I’d like to know if I was successful or not.”

I roll my eyes, handing him my laptop. 

He helped me a lot.

Which was shocking, considering what we were before this all began. 

Our relationship _before_ was best described by Penelope:

“It’s like watching two threatened peacocks, both with their feathers fanned out and ready to fight.”

Agatha had added on to it, saying that it would be true if the two peacocks were also both trying to bang.

(I left so fast after that, I forgot my food.)

Baz opens my laptop.

(She wasn’t wrong, unfortunately.)

Over the past month I came to realize that I didn’t _really_ hate him. 

Quite the opposite.

“Well?” I say as he stares at the screen. I’m waiting for a reaction.

Instead, he puts it on my desk.

“You should look, they’re your scores,” he says quietly. 

I frown, panic slowly rising in my chest. 

_Did he already look?_

(Were they bad?)

“Simon,” he says softly. I look up at him immediately. He’s not used my name before. It’s always Snow with Baz. “You worked hard. It’ll be good.”

I take a deep breath and enter my password on the website.

_You worked hard._

His hand is on my shoulder, giving me a light squeeze. 

It’ll be good.

I click the final button, holding my breath for what lies ahead. 

I sigh when I see the next page.

“Well?” He asks.

“I entered my password wrong,” I mutter, retyping it. (Forgot to capitalize the first letter.)

He scoffs, leaning to half sit on my desk. 

(I can smell his shampoo.)

(Cedar and bergamot)

I look him up and down out of my peripheral while I wait for the page to load. He’s looking ahead, obviously deep in thought. His arms are crossed over his chest, watch letting a bit of sun shine off it onto the desk. 

I see him start to move and I refocus on the screen, only to see it.

_My grades._

And I’m amazed to see they’re….

_Good._

“I passed!” I shout, standing up suddenly, knocking my chair over. 

Baz lights up, standing straight. “Really?” He asks. 

I nod.

In the next millisecond the world feels like it’s falling out from under me. 

(It is, in some weird way, I guess.)

Baz has his arms wrapped around my waist, holding me tight and picking me up. I put my hands on his shoulders as a brace as I hold on to dear life. 

“I knew you could do it!” He says. 

Baz says it with the intensity and light that makes me believe it for a minute.

When my feet touch the ground our eyes are locked, both of us smiling, a laugh of excitement still etched on our faces.

His hand moves to my face and my chest warms.

_This is new._

“Simon,” he whispers.

I put my hands around his neck and pull him down so our lips are almost touching. My eyes are still in his, searching.

“Can I?” I ask quietly. I feel like I know the answer, but I want to have confirmation.

I want to know that he wants this too. 

He nods softly, barely, before I crash into him. Lips against lips, arms wrapped around each other pulling us closer.

Closer.

_Even closer._

And it’s _good._

Better than I thought it _could_ be. 

It’s like I’m breathing him in. Letting him consume me.

_Letting myself consume him._

When we pull back, I let my eyes open again. 

His hair is tangled (from my fingers), his chest is rising and falling with the deep breaths he is taking, and he still has a hand on my cheek.

He rubs his thumb back and forth and I let my eyes fall closed again, sitting in the sensation. 

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while, now,” Baz whispers.

I nod, leaning up to give him a chaste kiss again, already missing his touch when I pull away.

“Me too,” I reply. 

He huffs in laughter and pulls me by my chin, kissing me until I forget any ounce of worry I had about my grades.


	22. A Really Loud High-Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Shepard's birthday, and all he wants is a high-five from Baz.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A prompt from [Nick](tumblr.com/blog/nick-eyre).
> 
> They requested Simpard... but it ended up a bit of Shaz instead. (Shepaltin? Omahaz? Bamaha? Idfk.)
> 
> I hope you like it, regardless <3

Baz

Shepard keeps trying to give me a high-five.

It’s become a battle of sorts at this point. Something happens, he raises his hand, I walk the other way.

(Simon always reciprocates. Says he doesn’t want to _leave Shepard hanging_ or whatever.)

“Today is Shepard’s birthday,” Simon states absentmindedly. The television is playing softly in the living room (the news. It’s bleak. Like everything during the pandemic.) “I think he’s sad he can’t fly home to America.” 

He lifts his tea to his lips, drinking what must be the remains. Our plates are clean from breakfast, and I’ve only a bit of coffee remaining. 

(I down it in two gulps, waiting.)

_Waiting for him to get to the point._

We’ve already got plans for the day. There’s a cake on the counter, Simon’s going to order in burgers or something else that will feel utterly American. 

What else could he bring up? What else do we need to do?

“I think you should give him a high-five today,” Simon says.

I groan.

“Oh, come off it,” he says, cutting me off before I can complain further. “It’s a simple collision of two hands-”

“Don’t word it like that.”

“You know what I mean,” he sighs. “He really wants one from you.”

I raise an eyebrow.

“Does he?”

“Yes, but you knew that. Don’t be daft.”

“Did you just call me-”

“Yes! Daft! You’re the daft one today, congratulations.” 

I roll my eyes, picking up our mugs to clean. “Did you pay the electric?”

I hear him mutter _fuck_ under his breath as I walk into the kitchen.

“Who’s the daft one now?” I ask, laughing to myself.

(I paid it yesterday, knowing he’d forget.)

****

_Three hours later._

“Baz,” Simon mutters to me in the kitchen. He’s placing candles on the cake, already trying to push me away because _fire_ . “You should do it.”

I grab a few plates from the cupboard, watching Simon out of the corner of my eye. 

(For someone so concerned about me near fire, he sure has the match close to the paper towels.)

“The high-five, I mean.” 

“I assumed, Snow.” 

I carry the plates to the dining room and turn off the lights, waiting for Simon to enter with the cake. 

(It takes three swears and a few minutes before he does.)

Then, the room fills with Penelope, Simon, and I singing happy birthday. Shepard sits in the chair, a sash over his chest (Penelope’s doing) and an obnoxiously large smile on his face.

Penelope is tone deaf, but it works.

(Simon, surprisingly, isn’t.)

Shepard blows out his candles and gives us all thanks. 

I sit next to him, cutting slices of cake, trying not to give myself one with cheap candle wax on it (I told Simon to get better candles, but he insisted on the dinosaur ones.)

“What did you wish for?” Simon asks, shoving a forkful of cake into his mouth.

Shepard waxes on about how _you can’t say what your wish is, or else it won’t come true_. He even starts into a long story about a genie he met in Canada _confirmed_ it.

(Though he admits the genie could have been fucking with him.)

“Well, Shepard,” I say, standing up to collect plates and melted candles, “Happy birthday.”

I raise my hand towards him, watching as his face lights up.

(Crowley, I’m going to regret this.)

It’s over in about a second, and all I’m left with is a tingly feeling in my hand, and the loud _thwack_ his hand made when it hit mine.

I rub the palm of my hand, frowning.

“Oh, Christ, I’m sorry, Baz,” he says, sincerity clear on his face. “I didn’t think it would hurt! Simon said you’re kevlar.”

“Wait, that _hurt_ you?” Simon asks.

“No,” I lie. I grab the plates and make my way into the kitchen.

When I walk out I hear another loud slap, and I know it’s between Simon and Shepard. 

And while I may never _truly_ understand it, I’m glad. I’m glad Simon has a friend.

(Even if it’s one just as ridiculous and ill-mannered as him.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! I hope you liked it.
> 
> Feel free to check me out on [Tumblr!](tumblr.com/caitybuglove23)


	23. Kissing Knuckles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baz runs into a less than whole Simon, and imagines a different world where he can care for him.

Baz

Simon Snow is always getting into trouble. Whether it’s with some magickal creature, me, or himself- it’s a constant norm.

The only time I get a respite from seeing him bruised and cut up is during the summer holidays. 

But when I walk into a bakery, picking an order up for Daphne, I am horrified.

Simon Snow is walking out, hair buzzed short, and a gash across his face, eye bruised.

It takes me a second to even recognize him. 

(I’d recognize him everywhere, however. I know how he smells, the sound of his heart, his blue eyes.)

He stops, hands opening the white paper bag that holds whatever baked good he’s bought. (Smells like a scone, I believe.) 

I raise my hand up in an awkward attempt at a wave. He frowns, but nods his head in response. 

He looks…. 

(Worn?)

(Ragged?)

_Broken._

I picture, for a moment, as we both stand there staring at each other. Two lives that only exist together in one space, finding each other in a different place.

(I never considered this. That I’d see Snow outside of Watford.)

I picture myself reaching forward and grabbing his bag, and forcing him to come with me. 

I’d clean his face, find out why it happened. (What caused it… _Who_ caused it.) 

I would kiss any tears off his cheeks, run my hands over his head, dreaming of his curls that come back in the fall. They’re as wild and lovely as he is. 

I’d take his hand and kiss each knuckle after wiping off the blood. (I’d not taste it. I wouldn’t ever.) I’d whisper promises with intent to keep him safe. 

Safe from whoever or whatever hurts him.

The humdrum.

The mage.

_Me._

He clears his throat and I’m jostled from my daydream, staring ahead again at the boy (man, he’s a man now. I can see that. Someone who probably wasn’t allowed to be a boy, not for a long time.) in front of me. 

He opens his mouth and I wonder what he’ll say.

He closes it again, letting out a deep sigh.

_Simon Snow, use your words._

(Please.)

He walks past me, shoulder bumping mine and causing me to lose my footing slightly. 

I close my eyes and try to take him in. The feel of his shoulder against mine, the scent he’s left behind. 

I open them back up and walk through the bakery doors, glancing down the sidewalk to see him.

But he’s already gone. It’s as if he was never there. 

I can’t help but wonder, however, where he’s going. What he’s doing. 

And on the off chance I can run into him again, I place another order for a few days from now.


	24. A hug after being separated for a long time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang is at the airport, ready to fly back to England.
> 
> It's just Agatha and Simon sitting together, after so much time apart.

Simon

We are at the airport, ready to head back to England.

Penelope says there’s trouble at Watford. Something’s happening and-

Well…

I guess I’m used to this sort of thing.

It’s just odd now. Saving the world without the nuclear bomb that was my magic. 

I can see her worry etched across her face. The wrinkles between her brows any time she glances my way. 

Baz has been avoiding me since the beach.

I think…

I’m not sure what I think. 

Shepard is charming up a flight attendant, trying to get our flight moved to the earlier time so we don’t have to wait five more hours. 

Agatha is the only one who seems to be acting _normal._

(Well, normal for the situation.)

I sit next to her and sigh. She stops fussing with her nails and looks up.

“So, we’re doing this- huh?” She asks quietly.

I nod my head. 

_This._

Saving Watford, I assume. 

She rests her hand on my back, rubbing between my shoulder blades.

“Funny, I can’t even feel them,” she murmurs. “How does it feel?”

I shrug.

She huffs out a soft laugh, moving her hand to my shoulder.

It’s more than we’ve touched in a long time. 

(Even before she left for America.)

It’s different now, though. I’m with Baz (I think), and she isn’t touching me in a girlfriend way.

Just in a friend way. 

“Are you going to be alright, Simon?” She asks. 

I see Penelope and Baz standing in line to get food at a Starbucks near the gate. They keep glancing back at us, muttering to each other.

(A voice in my head says they’re talking about me. But the part that knows them both tries to soothe it. I know what Baz’s plotting face looks like. And I know Penelope is making a list on the notepad in her hand.)

I turn to Agatha, ready to say what I always said back at school.

_I’m always fine._

But it catches, and for once I admit to myself, and to someone outside of my damn head-

“I’m not sure,” I whisper. 

She nods lightly and brings me into a tight hug.

“It’s okay to not know, Simon,” she mutters. 

A few tears start to sting the edges of my eyes, but I clear my throat and pull back.

(Just in time for Baz and Penelope to walk up.)

Agatha pats my back once, twice, and then straightens up, ready to listen to whatever plan they’ve come up with.

She’s just as used to the madness as the rest of us are.

_I should apologize when things settle. Tell her that I’m sorry for everything she was put through just by dating me._

But, for now, we plan. We fight.

I look at Baz, who is staring straight at the floor as Penelope speaks. 

_And I’m ready to fight more than ever before._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope you liked it!
> 
> Feel free to check me out on [Tumblr!](http://tumblr.com/blog/caitybuglove23)


	25. A Story of 4 Prompts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nunzie gave me a list of 6 prompts (2 of which I've already written), so enjoy my combo of four of them:  
> 9\. wiping away someone’s tears  
> 13.kissing someone’s forehead  
> 17\. tugging on the bottom of someone’s shirt  
> 25\. playfully biting someone
> 
> Parent snowbaz dealing with a nightmare and then bed afterwards ;).

Baz

I wake with a jolt, a loud scream coming from down the hall. 

(The _one time_ I manage to go to sleep at a decent hour.)

Simon, next to me, sits up and rubs his eyes.

“Wha-” he starts, yawning halfway through the word.

He stretches, not even attempting to get out of bed as I pull back the covers. 

The scream dies into crying, no longer filling the house with a deafening shrill. 

“I’ll take care of it,” I reply, knowing it’s my turn anyway. Simon has gotten the last 3 incidents. 

(Nightmare, bed-wetting, and a bit of sick all over her sheets.)

(He’s truly a saint.)

I watch as he lies back in the bed, closing his eyes, before completely exiting our bedroom. 

The sniffles grow louder as I walk closer to our daughter’s room. 

“Hi little puff,” I say, walking in. I lie next to her, surrounded by stuffed animals and soft blankets. A zebra’s eyes poke into my arm, so I shift to not be uncomfortable. (Who knows how long I’ll be here.) “Did you have a nightmare?”

She nods her head, tears still streaming down her face.

I kiss her forehead and pull her close.

“Do you want to tell me about it?” I ask, rubbing her back softly. The sniffling has already settled, and I wipe the tears of her cheeks, letting her calm down in my arms. 

She shakes her head. Her eyes are already starting to close, breaths becoming deeper. 

_At least this won’t be a two book, three song, and four hour cuddle session problem._

(Not that I wouldn’t, if she needed it.)

(Just… I’d like to sleep myself.)

I hum softly, waiting for her to fall asleep. There are soft rain noises coming from a machine in the corner next to a small night lamp. 

(If I stay too long I’ll become one with the pile of stuffed animals.)

I shift slightly, trying to pull my arm from under her. In doing so I become face to face with a particularly stern looking elephant. 

(Penelope. She said not _all_ stuffed animals needed to have cute little smiles.)

(I told her that they are supposed to be _cute_.)

(So, of course, this is the one our daughter loves the most.)

I sigh, deciding that it’s safe for me to move. Her breathing has slowed and I can hear a soft snore every time she inhales. 

I slowly and carefully slide out of bed, trying my hardest to not wake her up.

It takes nearly three minutes, a well placed toe on the ground, and a twist that I’m sure I’ll regret when I wake up in the morning. But it’s worth it all now, as I tuck her into bed, and make my way back to the room.

The room, where Simon Snow lies _still awake._

“What happened?” He asks, lifting the covers for me to crawl back in. 

“Nightmare,” I mumble, pulling him close. 

He kisses my forehead, my cheek, my lips.

“Was it the one with the hippo in the bathtub?”

“She wouldn’t say. Fell asleep almost immediately after I got into bed with her.”

He laughs softly against my skin. 

We lie like that for a moment, soft and sleepy kisses.

He pulls me by the bottom of my shirt, my hips moving closer to his. 

“You know, we _are_ both awake,” he says.

And I don’t need to see him to know that he has a smirk on his face. I can hear it.

(I’m not mad at it.)

(Quite the opposite.)

He bites my shoulder, softly, playfully. It’s not serious (yet), but I still jump in response.

I pull back, raising an eyebrow at him.

He can’t see it, it’s too dark, but the intent is there. 

And in a moment I pounce, flipping us so I am on top of Simon, kissing his neck.

****

I press snooze three times the following morning. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Feel free to check me out on [Tumblr!](tumblr.com/blog/caitybuglove23)


	26. Meeting the Mage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from anon: 8- “If you’re going to point that thing at me, child, you had better know how to use it.” 👀👀👀
> 
> Right after going off at the care shelter, Simon meets a strange man.

I’m sitting, shivering, crying.

I’m still so _fucking hungry_.

I’ve no clue what just happened. But I’m left looking at the remains of my home ( _everyone’s home)_. 

Tears continue to pour as I realize—

“No,” I sob, clambering up to my feet. I trip over my blanket, nearly hitting my head on a piece of the wall still stuck up. “ _No no no_.”

I hear the crunch of feet nearby, and I jolt up—hoping it’s _someone_.

I’d just been having a nightmare. A hand, picking me up by the collar, telling me I was _broken_.

That I wasn’t working. 

My skin feels numb. The sounds of footsteps get closer, and I can’t tell anymore if I’m afraid of what’s coming, or hopeful it’s someone to tell me I didn’t do this.

Maybe it’s just a part of my nightmare. Everything feels kinda hazy. Dreamlike, almost. 

I scrunch my eyes tight, which feels too _real_ for this to be a dream.

The footsteps stop in front of me, and I wait. The only sound now is the breath of whatever (whoever) is in front of me. 

A hand touches my shoulder and I collapse instantly.

“I’m sorry,” I cry out. “I didn’t mean to. I don’t know what happened.” The hand follows me as I fall, still holding onto my shoulder. 

_I didn’t mean to kill all those people._

_I’m broken—unfixable_. 

“Shhhh,” the person says, putting another hand on my other shoulder, both hands gripping me and trying to pull me back to reality. “No one’s been hurt,” he says quietly. 

I open my eyes, which proves to be useless. All I see is a blur around my tears. But I can vaguely make out the silhouette of a man. He’s younger, dark hair, and the grip he has on my shoulders is starting to hurt.

I don’t tell him so, though. I’ve been hurt before. Learned fast not to let on how badly someone hurts you. It just encourages them to do it more.

“No one’s hurt, boy,” he says softly again. I don’t think anyone’s talked to me this softly before. It’s… _strange_. “Everyone here is far away now, completely safe and unharmed.”

I frown, trying to blink away tears. (It’s a futile attempt. They just continue to flow.) “ _How?_ ”

He sighs, sitting down finally across from me. His grip loosens from my shoulders, and his hands move down my arms and to my hands. It’s loose, easy to pull away.

I do. Pull away, that is. 

I don’t know who this person is, what he might do. I wipe away some tears with my hands. 

“What’s your name?” He asks. 

He reaches for my hands again, but I flinch back. “Simon,” I respond. He pulls back. “Simon Snow.”

“Simon,” he starts. He shifts in his seat, setting something down on the ground. I see it glint in the light. The sun’s starting to come up, rising slowly in the distance. 

He starts to say something, but I can’t get my brain to focus.

_Sword_. 

He looks to the side for a second, and I grab the sword. It’s heavier than I thought it’d be. We have toy swords here, they’re foam. Most of the time they’re broken, or have teeth marks on them.

This feels _real_.

“Simon—” the man says cautiously. He reaches forward and touches my hand.

It makes me jump, going straight to the only thing I feel comfortable doing.

_Fighting_.

I slap his hand away and in a second have the sword held against his neck. It’s heavy, uncomfortable to hold, but I’m persistent.

I’m tough. 

His eyes are wide and his hands are up in the air. My eyes are no longer watery, emotion changing immediately from fear and anxiety to a calm adrenaline—ready to take down this man if I need to.

I’m still not completely convinced this isn’t a dream anyway.

So what if I kill this man? It’s not _real_. There’s no way.

The way I felt, the way the whole building crashed down.

There’s no reason it _should have_. And even less of a reason why everyone could magically be transported streets away, as he said. 

My arm starts to shake, but I hold firm.

“Simon,” he says again, cautiously strong. I find the last bit of strength in me to hold the sword tighter against his neck. A drop of blood falls down his neck, he hisses at the pain. “If you’re going to point that thing at me, child, you had better know how to use it,” he seethes finally.

The sword falters for a moment. My stomach growls.

_I’m so hungry._

The man takes a deep breath, calming himself. “I’m not here to hurt you, Simon.”

_That’s what they all say._

“Why don’t we get a bite to eat and I can explain everything then,” he says, holding his hand out again. 

My stomach pangs with pain at the mention of food. I let the sword drop completely, my arm crying out with pain. He gingerly reaches forward, grabbing it gently from my grasp.

I let him.

What’s the worst that could happen?

He could hurt me, of course.

But at least I’d have _food_. 

I get hurt here plenty and starve even more regularly.

He stands up and reaches a hand out to me again. I cross my arms over my chest, refusing to take it. Instead of fighting the issue the man lets out a soft chuckle and shakes his head.

“Come along now, then. Let’s get you some food.” He turns around, sheathing his sword and walking back through the rubble.

I stay still for a moment. When he registers I’m not moving he turns back to me. “What’s wrong?” He asks.

“What’s your name?” I ask. Certainly I should know his name if I’m about to die with this strange man.

Or, if this is a dream like I believe it might be, at least I’ll have a name the next time he appears. (My dreams almost always come back around. Like reruns on the telly. Except less wanted and certainly _not_ something I want to see.)

“You can call me the Mage,” he says. “I can explain more once you’ve gotten a burger in you.”

I sigh, drop my hands, and begin to follow him.

When we make our way back out of the rubble I look back. A sign still stands outside. The name of the care home.

_Rosebud Care Facility._

I give it a nod, and hope to never see it again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to check me out on [Tumblr!](http://tumblr.com/blog/caitybuglove23)


End file.
